The Bamboozle Planetarium

May my writing dilemmas be solved!

2011-05-04T00:46:00.001-07:00

May has started off scatterbrained. Perhaps the poem from Fizzy Lemonade may explain a bit?

Silly
Cat why are you
Always
Telling me
To cry
Every rainy day
Bring back the
Rich feelings rather then all the
Insane
Niceness masquerading as nastiness
Ending
Dastardly as always

For starters I messed up my work schedule again. I thank the Lord I have a billion brownie points saved up for occasions like these. You see I’ve been sick with a cold of all dastardliness. It starts off in the chest then migrates to head cold. I hardly ever get sick so when I do watch out.

Yesterday was Election Day here in Canada. I was sick, so no going out to vote for me. I was pretty stoked to hear the NDP is the official opposition, but just as disappointed that Harper and the Conservatives have the majority. I wonder if I had voted and infected everyone at the election hall with all my germs if my one vote could have changed that. I guess I will never know.
Another thing I notice when I walk by the garden centre at work on my way to work where is the plants? WTF? Was it such a late spring that they are not here yet? I mean there are some plants but not as much as there usually is! This just proves I’ve been at this job for way to long. I think some evil scarlety monster must have stolen them. (no I don’t mean Mrs. Lachlan’s Mum) It’s May, there are usually tills all caked with dirt, cashiers cleaning said tills and customers all cheery coming up with flats of pretty smelling flowers. It’s MAY! Last time I checked the green thumbs crawl out of there houses in early March. The plants must have got delayed when old man winter decided to extend winter till mid March. I hope Mr. Summer punches him in the face.

Now to what I really want to write about….

This month I endeavour to write more. I dreamt all the girls as far as I know were writing all these short stories and getting published but I kept missing out because I stopped writing as much as I used too. I have dreams about characters, stories and/or future characters and stories. Characters harass me in my dreams demanding I notice them again. Maybe it’s a weird writer imagination thing?

It reminds me of a conversation with a friend of mine at work. I’ll call her Daffodil because its random and not that it’s an incriminating story but well perhaps she’d like to remain anonymous.

Daffodil: So have you been writing lately?
Me: Not as much as I should be I guess…so not very much.
Daffodil: Don’t writers write everyday?
Me: I guess I am not much a writer these days?
Daffodil: I thought that is what they do?

In retrospect I should have mentioned how perhaps writers get busy or maybe burned out and take a break from living, breathing and eating words all the time? Yes, “a writer writes always,” but sometimes it takes dedication to make sure it happens on a continual basis.

I think I’ve all ready had my rant on the labels and expectations on what it means to be a writer. It may be assumed that writers devour and consume words on a daily basis and are lost in sentences and paragraphs. I see words when I think of things, but I forget to write them down. Does that mean I have neglected my craft? I’ve been labelled a writer for so long, I forget that it means I also must conform to the can of soups directions and ingredients meant for writers. Whatever the hell it is anyways?

What is a writer? Here is what I think it means along with pictures to illustrate.

"I write differently then I are speak!"

A writer is….

A thinker…

A reader too re: the age old adage “always read because it makes you a better writer.”

"Oh boy I am a reader. I love reading!"

Imaginative

Creative

Always original ideas (No idea is original :P)

Is obscenely intelligent

Went to school for some sort of writing profession and are working in it.

Are a best selling novelist

“Oh boy I am just like Charlaine Harris!”

They know how to write anything from novels, poetry, screenplays, etc.

Knows every single word in the English language (or which ever language they are born into)

Never has to use spell checker

Is a grammar Nazi

They know how to use words effectively, perfectly, erroneously

Help people feel things and think about the world (This I think is possible!)

Heaven forbid, there should never be kinks in their prose, no flaws in there works

A writer can’t be human forget how to phrase something or have little ticks about them, have grammar demons or write inaccurate ballonium (it’s a new word I made up :P)

Writers have editors? Of course to keep away the predators, like all the above stuff I just mentioned.

"Take that grammar demons mwhahahhaha!!!!"

Writers are not perfect, that is why they are so well loved. If all writers and writing was perfect then know one would know a person wrote it down. Flaws, bad grammar, intelligence or lack there of, funny sentence structure is important because it shows that it is original thought! A person wrote this, not some robot.

What I really want to know is; can a writer and a person be separate? I am a writer. I am a person. It is something that I love and I do, but is it who I am? Am I, Melissa who is a writer or Melissa the writer? I prefer the first one. It’s a slice of my identity, not the whole pie. One piece of the puzzle, not the whole picture.f I do have other hobbies.

I bake pies!

I sew!

Just to name a few things....

I don’t want to be labelled but I hve no choice in the matter. It is flattering that people think of me this way, but I really just want to be me. A person who writes, loves words, has grammar and/or spelling issues. I will “write differently then I speak!” I won’t be the soup in the can labelled writer. I will be me! The more I tell myself that the more I will stop worrying about what other people think. If people use the writer part of me as an attack I will fight the battle of the categories. I will not worry about the so called ingredients belonging to a writer. I will worry about the pieces that make me! Now if only I could practice that on a daily basis!

P.S. I like dolls so I guess that makes me creepy?

P.S.S. I can't get blogger to publish the entry they way I want it. Grrrr.... I apologise for the spaceyness and the odd alignments. Rah!

When tea parties go wrong...

2011-04-07T16:20:00.001-07:00

One of the many things I do when I spend time with my brother is have tea parties.

But rather then have a party of two I invited five plastic beings of prettiness. Claudine. Napoleon, Hollie, Claudette, and Viola

Someone spiked the drinks so after awhile. They seem to think it was pretty hilarious to wear the tea cups on their head.

As you can see things got out of hand…especially for one in particular.

When Napoleon got home…(See picture below)…

She was a bit rowdy and got in a fight with Mrs. Lachlan’s Mum.

It didn’t end well.

This is why I don’t bring anymore dollies to my brother’s tea parties. :P Wall repair is expensive. THE END!

P.S. This is what happens when you are bored and can’t think of anything to write about…

Flying through March…

2011-03-27T20:57:00.001-07:00

Sunday, March 27, 2011

March always seems to be the month that moves forward…

Moving

Around

Running

Chuckling

Hilariously

When I think of March, I think spring. Joyfulness is in the air, the sun shines, birds sing and the days are longer. I love birds the way they hope around on the ground daintily and graceful and fly away effortlessly. I wonder what it would be like to fly. Exhilarating? Scary maybe… I flew on planes before, but I can’t look out the window when the plane is over the ocean because I have a phobia of dying in a plane particularly into an ocean. :S So flying overseas now that I think of it was especially brave.

It’s been an interesting month, moving to a new place on my own. It’s expensive, but peaceful. Other then that it’s same old same old, same friends, same job, same family, the only excitement I get is hearing others telling me about how awful their lives are, then learning how to cross stitch (I’m obsessed) and playing Lego with my brother (I like building things :P) are a few things.

I’m thinking I should be endeavouring to write more the rest of the year as well, but it’s hard some days. I keep forgetting I can rely on words to get me through and it’s even more frustrating when I let hundreds of beautiful ideas slip past. Rats!

P.S. I am finally able to bake my brother an apple pie.

February!

2011-02-22T22:29:00.001-08:00

February, what is there to say about this month? It’s the shortest and often still the coldest part of the year. It’s not my favourite.

Frigid

Ever

Believing

Ridiculously

Absolutely

Really

Yucky!

I’ve never liked February! For several reasons, Firstly, hours at work are cut back no matter which job I have so I am much poorer. Especially after the nice fat pay checks of December it just feels more like a particular blow, secondly Valentines Day, thirdly it’s usually cold and dark.

I’ve come a long way since February last year mind you. My brain is still rattled when I read about how love sickly destitute I was.

In February 2006 I traveled to Australia. It was -21 C with a wind-chill when I left Calgary, therefore it felt like – 30 C. (I still don’t understand why they have all this wind-chill B.S.) When I arrived in Brisbane two days later, (I lost a day due to the International Date Line) it was in the high 30’s C. I got a cold because of it and heat sick. That part wasn’t fun. I remember being at the domestic airport and for some strange reason I wanted to see which way the water went when toilet flushed; sure enough it went the opposite of home in Canada. I even remember which books I read on the trip over, Enders Game and Memoirs of a Geisha. This was the only time February meant something to me. I had something in this month to look forward too. I didn’t care that I worked at McDonalds because I was going to Australia. Now all I have is March 1st, the Library, random visits with my brother, treasure hunting at the Sally Annand wonky shifts at Wal-Mart. Pfft! No Australia, no new adventures right about the corner. It sucks.

Mind you this February I discovered another author I like, William Kotzwinkle and my hours have been relatively consistent considering the hours could be much worse. And considering how cold it is. It’s nice that I live so close to work now…

February and winter months in general are the times where I withdraw and hibernate. Not that I don’t find comfort in my own company, but I do miss talking to people. We talk, we share stories; I like how everyone I’ve ever met has something different about them. Sometimes it helps me remember some people have harder problems then me. Anyone who knows me, knows I love to rant about stuff that bugs me, then when I hear about things from other people It makes me wonder why I rant all the time. It’s not like I expect them to give feed back or feel sorry for me I just want to bitch to someone and I don’t mind people wanting to bitch to me either.

I haven’t met anyone who says they like February either. But March is good because it means spring is coming. Everyone seems to be looking forward to spring.

This February has been particularly weird. I’ve somehow stumbled into a dictatorship oriented shared accommodation. I now live with Mrs. AR or Mrs. Anal Retentive. I could go on but my rants usually get me in a whole lot of trouble. I’ll let the name I give her speak for itself. Perhaps February makes people extra nutty. I will tell you this though I don’t think you can tell a full grown woman when to go to bed. If I make even the slightest noise past 10 p.m. she is at my door telling me how I woke her up and what a terribly noisy person I am, etc. She reminds me of my grandmother. That is not a good thing. Sometimes I want to tell her to eat me, but I don’t think that option would be particularly tasty.

February is almost over….enough said.

P.S. I am stronger then people give me credit for.

Me and Mormonism Part 6: I’m no longer censoring myself!

2011-01-13T16:25:00.001-08:00

I’m making my blog public again!

Well it appears I have neglected this space for sometime. I will admit the last few months since the “Red Sweater Apology” fiasco and how the “poisonous secret ” came out. I’ve had troubles writing. I feel like I have to censor myself. So yes there may be something’s people don’t like, but they can choose not to read it. If I wrote something offensive towards someone then they can tell me and I will try to make amends but I won’t apologise for who I am anymore. I like to write and I am brutally honest, the end!

But I digress I shall write what I came to write about…which is why I want to make it public again.

They’ve found me….I don’t know how but they found me! Actually I do, I gave them my number. I was minding my own business eating an everything bagel with cream cheese (nom, nom, nom :P) When my phone rang when who should it be but Mormon Missionaries!

Me: (eating my yummy bagel when the phone rings)

Guy on phone: Hi Melissa it’s the Missionaries!

Me: Urgh? OK?

Me thinking: WTF?

Missionary person: Can we come visit you sometime?!

Me thinking: NO NEVER!

Me: I guess….

Missionary: (sort of picking up my apprehension) OK so are you free next week sometime?

Me: Yes….Ummm I moved…

Missionary: Oh OK? Where do you live?

Me: Well I live…

Me thinking: IDIOT! Why did I just tell him that?

Missionary: OK we’ll call next week and maybe you’re free so we can visit.

Me thinking: HELP, HELP HELP!

I specifically told them when I had my name removed NOT to contact me and I thought perhaps I was lucky and they decided to accept my request. Like I’ve said before I made up my mind, my decision was final and according to them I am no longer a member, why did they wait till now to contact me. According to them I am eternally damned and I cannot receive exaltation, etc.

Thoughts like these popped up moments later:

Is this a time for apologetics?

No wait I cannot attack their faith!

Maybe this is an opportunity to tell someone from the church how I really feel?

Are they trying to reconvert me?

If I am no longer and inactive member does this mean I am investigator again?

God help me!

Why didn’t I just tell them on the phone I wasn’t interested?

I could have mentioned how I am no longer a member?

I could talk to the pastor of my church?

No, no I should face them on my own. They are not bad people!

Religion and I are like oil and water, we just don’t mix well. Last night I dreamt I was standing before a large lake wearing a pretty gold robe and the pastor baptised me. Just before this I felt sickening anxiety I DID not want to do it, but I told myself that I should get it over and done with because I do believe. During the baptism which magically was in the baptismal font I inhaled water and drowned. I believe in God, but I don’t want to be tied down to any specific denomination. I am OK to call myself Christian, but I don’t want to be a Baptist, Presbyterian, Lutheran, Catholic, etc. I just want to believe in God, frequent a church that believes in Him too, but no one seems to understand that.

P.S. I miss my doggy :(

Analyzing passive aggressive?

2010-12-05T23:47:00.001-08:00

I guess its good I made this blog private, because I can be a little more open, this time it’s more about sharing with people I invited, rather then the whole world. I don’t want the whole anonymous B.S. to happen again. I was looking over previous comments and I found more comments from the anonymous commenter (s) why does it still bother me? I thought I was over this?

So I re-read some of the stuff I wrote when I was overcome with the jealousy bug and it was mean and I’ve come to realise that perhaps I never knew this girl at all. If there was ever a potential for friendship it ended the day I decided to post my deep and darkest feelings. The funny thing is I remember before I posted it thinking this will get me into big trouble. And it seems like the last dream I wrote about…

“Then I dreamt last night I was telling my friends about this girl in a similar non-identifying style of this blog and one friend knew who I was talking about. I was angry in this dream because I was frustrated with this person and said I have no one to vent too or say how I am feeling because of the backlash it would cause. I had no friends at the end of the dream, I ran away screaming and crying yet again.”

…was a self fulfilling prophesy! I mean I did have a one on one conversation with a friend. I realised what I did was horrible I ran away crying and I don’t think my relationship with any of my friends has been the same since….

Mind you deep down I wanted to write it too.

“It’s awkward as, hanging around with her. I am keeping this poisonous secret and its making me bitter to know end!”

So I guess now it’s not a poisonous secret. It brings me back to my previous entry, where I acknowledged there are different interpretations of texts. They don’t say the pen is mightier then the sword for nothing.

Maybe I was being passive aggressive. In fact I really wish I could come up with a good description of what passive aggressiveness is. Does it mean the actions are passive, but the intent is aggressive? Passive aggressive is actually something used in the wrong context.

The dictionary says:

Passive Aggressive (adj.) Of, relating to, or having a personality disorder characterized by habitual passive resistance to demands for adequate performance in occupational or social situations, as by procrastination, stubbornness, sullenness, and inefficiency.

One description might be:

A customer at a burger joint is being a not-wat and instead of the servers saying I don’t appreciate how you are treating me they spit in there burger and serve it too them with a smile. They did a very nasty thing whilst remaining polite. The customer is unsuspecting, eats burger, employee is stoked because they got one on this mean nasty person.

Another would be:

Me dropping my roommates toothbrush in the toilet after she leaves me a note regarding my lack of response in cleaning the bathroom. (See previous entry re: Boiling Point) Leaving a note in reply instead of confronting her and explaining how it wasn’t appreciated is equally passive aggressive. In retrospect its just being petty and mean. Might as well call it what it is.

It’s like the little kid whose been told to do chores, they do them they take obscenely longer then normal or won’t even do them at all.

Some might even say passive aggressiveness is a form or covert abuse. Passive aggressive behaviour is actually a medical condition believe it or not. From research I have deduced it means to be outwardly calm and accepting everyone with ambivalence, but on the inside it’s like Godzilla Raaaaarrrr! The person then shows this by doing mean things subtly, like sulking or procrastination. I don’t think I can properly answer this in a way I can understand.

References:

http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/2453/what-is-passive-aggressive

http://www.buzzle.com/articles/what-does-passive-aggressive-mean.html

P.S. My animal personality is a penguin :P

You’re a writer…?

2010-12-01T23:22:00.001-08:00

This is a common misdemeanour I encounter as a “writer” I will say and/or write something that is either misinterpreted or comes out the wrong way and they will say.

“You’re a writer…I think you could express this better, etc, etc.”

Either it’s a joke, a slap in the face or some other intention. Is this a common thing for writers to go through?

Here is an example via text message.

Grace: Don’t forget rent is due tomorrow please! J

Me thinking: Oh brother!

Me: I don’t need the reminders. I think I am capable of remembering.

Grace: If you have something you want to discuss with me you do it in person. And as I gave the reminder to Viola it wasn’t personal and it won’t happen again.

Me thinking: Darn it I had a feeling she’d take it the wrong way…oh crap oh crap she is pissed.

Me: I meant it as you don’t have to worry, not as an attack sorry if I upset you and I have rent by the way.

Grace: Well then as a writer, perhaps you should consider how you use your words. I do need to have a second with you tonight if you’re home.

My thoughts: BITCH! Grace scares the crap out of me by the way.

Let’s just say I spent way over the 30 minutes to dwell rule my friend Chris and I instated, but fudge it really pissed me off. I had to thank my mom for the hot chocolate and the bitch when I talked to her today. I was Melzilla earlier…

Any human who rents with half a brain knows the 1^st of the month (hear in Canada anyways) rent is due. I probably shouldn’t have said anything, but she’s been reminding me for six months since I moved in. The frustration I feel right now is irritating. As a writer I know words do not belong to me, but to everyone. Why do people think I should word things differently just because I like to write? They fling it at me as a point of attack! What is a writer anyway? I’d like to know Grace’s definition.

So I wanted to give my months notice, but the douche got one on me and is giving me my notice. Apparently I am too sensitive about my boundaries and it’s something I’ve been talking about since I moved in, but what really got me was…This was after she accused me of hiding my peppermint tea because I may have noticed she was drinking it by mistake and she didn’t want me to think she was stealing my food…Oh brother!

Grace: You know for someone who says we (roomies) are passive aggressive your message was passive aggressive.

Me: No it wasn’t, you interpreted it that way.

Grace: No it was passive aggressive. That’s how it sounded.

Me: No words are subject to interpretation, so what I take from words might be different then yours.

Grace: (Irksome grin) So, when you said we were being passive aggressive that was you interpreting it that way?

Me: Yes of course just like you took my message the wrong way from what was intended and that’s your issue not mine.

Grace: OK that’s all I wanted to say…

I am sick of people thinking they understand how I think or how I should act, speak or write because I am thought of as a writer. I am sick of the wisecracks. Is there other crafts or professions who get this too… “Oh you work at Wal-Mart therefore you should know the whole place inside out.” Or “you’re a mom you should be more sensitive.” It’s like I am being defined by a stereotype.

What is a writer? Not all writers are the same, yes some have the master over words and imagination, but some have grammar issues, some cannot spell, some cannot even bare the sight of a dictionary and some are actually equally good at math (I met a writer who had a math degree). Some writers write screen plays, some poems, some journalism related stories. It was like the time the pastor of my church wanted me to write a poem for church about God. Apparently it was a “solid poem” but I took no joy in writing it. I am not a poet! But because I am a writer I automatically should be considered for this task, never mind my areas of writing or preferences are journalism, journaling and writing novels/short stories.

I am not a poet, and I know it, but I am a journalist in waiting and a storyteller at heart, but I’ve been lumped into the “writer category.” And using something that is a part of me as an attack is wrong!

P.S. I got asked to move out in January!

Boiling Point

2010-11-03T20:56:00.001-07:00

I have two roommates:

One I have named Grace and the other Viola, Grace loves Grace Kelly and Viola is very musical.

Despite the fact this blog causes problems, I’ve made it private so I can go back to my honest opinions. I am going to be mean. In fact because its private I could use real names but I like the made up ones better….

I have something to say. My frustration with roommates (flatmates) has reached a boiling point. I like them, yet I have no patience for either of them.

I was really upset at one of my roommate Viola last night. I was late by two days cleaning the bathroom because apparently according to Grace who owns the place decided that every Sunday one of us has floor duty or bathroom duty. The later is mainly shared between Viola and me becauseGrace has her own. She cleans the shower in the rotation. Anyways, because of not doing it when expected I got a lovely note on the bathroom mirror.

"Melissa, the bathroom doesn't clean up itself."

Needless to say I was pretty choked about it and I felt like going into attack mode, which I think is something my mom does, but I digress. At 11 p.m. I cleaned, and then I left a note of my own saying:

“The bathroom doesn’t clean itself, but I did. I hope it is up to your utmost satisfaction. Thank you for the reminder.”

So of course I heard about it from the other roommate Grace who defended Viola and said it was sarcasm and maybe Viola was upset because I spend too much time helping my mom rather then doing my duties in the house or perhaps she was to P.O.’d about it to say anything and perhaps a note was just a nice way of saying something to me. Nice way? More like a passive aggressive bitchy way. And apparently if I didn’t like receiving a note why would Viola. Hmmmm….maybe that is why I left one and maybe that is why I “accidentally” dropped her toothbrush in the toilet. She wants to be a bitch I can be one too. Enough said.

I understand why Viola was upset but she could have talked to me in a mature manner and I would have apologized cleaned the bathroom and perhaps explained the lateness. Yes I was helping my mom yesterday but I had also just finished working 6 days straight mostly 8 hour shifts in which time was limited, not an excuse but a reason and didn’t mean I wasn’t going to do it. Patience is a virtue Viola obviously lacks. The whole you have to clean such and such on such and such a day is retarded. If I wanted to live in a dictatorship I’d time travel to Russia during Stalin’s regime. It doesn’t help they are both anal about it. It’s still the day of and they are after me reminding me. I have to wash my baking dishes because I am baking fiend (understandably) but Viola doesn’t? Christ that makes me angry! I wish Grace and Viola would stop being such a dish Nazis!

I accidentally put clothes on the dryer which are apparently littered with cat hairs (probably because Grace’s cat Lucy is imprisoned there 90% of the time) and Viola makes a snarky comment about how I made a terrible mistake and she is allergic, etc. I apologised her response was still equally sarcastic. Hmmmm….

This is not to say that I don’t like them. I have had good moments but right now my frustration is oozing down the sides of the pot from over boiling and its kind flowed over the good times.

P.S. I am making Fudge cupcakes for Tony for his birthday AND to celebrate the fact he gets a permanent home. WOOT!

I want to know why?

2010-10-17T22:43:00.001-07:00

Today a sermon about Gods love at church really made me think. Actually it kind of pissed me off. The premise (using the story of Lazarus) was pain and how it shows you, you need Jesus. Pain shakes up your life so you realise you need to depend on him because humans are self-centred bastards who would rather do things by themselves then ask God for help. So God makes us suffer because he loves us and he wants us to see that? Why would a loving God want people to suffer?

It made me think of how my brother suffers so much. Recently he broke his foot and had to have surgery on it. He now has Osteoporosis added to his ever alarming list of problems. If God loves all of us why would he allow someone to have so many disabilities and barriers? Where was God when my brother was born? Why does my family have to stand by and watch him suffer? If this is God’s will then it royally sucks! It’s not fair damn I am not blaming Him, I am just wondering…. I don’t even know if my brother even has a relationship with Jesus or knows about Him because he can’t communicate it to me. And Christians some wonder how some can become Atheists!

I asked two people at church today and my mom not one could answer my question properly to my satisfaction.

Just looked at me blankly almost confused and finally after a couple of awkward seconds said “some questions you can’t answer. It’s not fair but its life.” Pfft! Mind I think if I asked around some more this would be a common one.
The second one compared my brother to the Chilean mine rescue of 30 and the horrible earthquake in the same country which killed 300. So basically Tony is on the 300 side. Seriously?
My mom said this God gave my brother a high pain threshold because he knew he’d be in a lot of pain. She doesn’t blame God either. Nice answer Hev-Lady seeing as you didn’t answer my damn question.

Here is what I think. Maybe Tony is the way he is because when they are around him they’re filled with goodness my brother has (That’s not to say he doesn’t have any darkness in his personality because believe me he does). You can see the good side of humanity, people’s compassion, the ability to look past all the medical labels and see a person who brings joy and makes them laugh. He is a treasure underneath all the pain. However, why does he have to have so much hardship in order to see these things? I see a 20 year-old guy a work, a cocky, moody, self absorbed regular guy and I think, that should have, could have been my brother, (minus the cocky self absorbed bit :P). I guess I won’t be able to properly answer this question, but it doesn’t mean I don’t or still won’t think I about it.

P.S. I nearly dropped the f-bomb in front of two little kids whilst I was discussing last week’s power outage.

Returning to my love

2010-10-02T23:20:00.001-07:00

It feels good to be back! By that I mean behind my computer or with my notebook, with words again. I think I abandoned them, but it really isn’t possible because I use words every day, I think this applies to everyone.

A friend Sam-Lady (whom I haven’t written about in a while. She was a flatmate from which seems like eons ago who was harassed by a fire breathing rat-faced poo-head named Elise-Woman! Rah! Yes, yes, yes, I am using the mean words again but if you ever met her and got on this persons bad side…) said to me three words.

“You should write!”

I agree. I should but I don’t. It occurred to me I haven’t written a proper story for about four years. I have all these ideas swimming around in my head, I write them down but I don’t take it to the level the counts. I don’t turn it into what the idea is supposed to be, a story. Not to mention I haven’t been writing so processing my thoughts has gone down hill. A friend at work, I’ll call her Chip (because she is so chipper :P) even noticed I wasn’t myself, wondering if perhaps I am letting my new job get to me. On the contrary I find it very amusing. (More on that in a minute) The thing is I haven’t been writing and it’s depressing me. I forced myself to write some of my story Fizzy Lemonade, the sequel to Song of the Superheroes (which I started almost 3 years ago). I had the joy in my heart that I hadn’t felt in donkey’s ages. I have troubles concentrating like I used too but I tried.

People fascinate me I see some people around town that I could base characters off. For instance:

The morbidly obese guy who rides the bus: He takes up a whole row of seats. He has dirty blonde hair which looks like it hasn’t been washed in months; a scruffy beard, has a cane with a skull on it and is always wearing a leather jacket. Yesterday I saw him wearing a black velour cape. He could be a bus pirate. :P

Then there is the adorable tiny Asian woman: who coincidentally rides the bus too. She wears her pants practically up to her arm pits with bright pink socks. She like me always has her back pack. It’s forest green. It looks so heavy that it might send her flying backwards if she wasn’t holding on to something.

I should write more often, enough said.

Chapter 10 of Fizzy Lemonade is ready to read too. :)

P.S. I made orange flavoured sugar cookies and I grated the knuckle of my thumb whilst collecting orange zest only to find out my roommate was allergic to oranges.

It’s Official: Me and Mormonism Part 5

2010-09-29T19:02:00.001-07:00

Yes finally, you wouldn’t believe the sudden curiosity and trepidation I felt when I saw yet again another envelope from The Church of Jesus Christ of Later Day Saints sitting quietly on the kitchen table (can stuff sit quietly?). Let’s just say. It is finally official. I am no longer a member of the Mormon faith. A burden has been lifted. Not only that but I have physical proof!

Here is what it says:

September 21 2010

Dear Sister McKenna

This letter is to notify you that in accordance with your request your name has been removed from the membership records of The Church of Jesus Christ of Later Day Saints.

Should you desire to become a member of the Church in the future, the local bishop or branch president in your area will be happy to help you.

Sincerely,

Gregory W. Doge

Manager, Member and Statistical Records

I feel like I should frame it or something. I am just thankful my name removal wasn’t as involved as some ex-Mormons stories I have read about. Alas, a new chapter in my spiritual life. I can start over and follow God how I was meant too. Now if I could figure out how I am suppose to do that, followed by somehow breaking this news nicely to my family members who are LDS and may be non too please to hear this. Besides faith isn’t something set in stone, its something that can change from time to time as you begin to understand what it means exactly. I don’t think there is a definitive answer as I have learnt through from past.

P.S. In other news, I think I like someone again…I’ll just leave it at that.

Identity

2010-09-27T00:58:00.001-07:00

I wish I could say I haven’t had time to write because I’ve been so busy, but the truth is I do have time, but ever since the nonsense that has happened in my blog the past few months. As you can tell I went back on my decision to make my blog private.

I just can’t seem to write in it anymore. It was so much easier when my thoughts weren’t under attack. I’ve had stuff worth sharing, but it just seems no name is safe, no event how amazingly awesome is ok to transpose, no thoughts of any kind are allowed because it might piss one person off I know in minute amount of people out of the gazillions in this world. I wish I could say that I have learnt from my transgressions. It appears no conversation is safe or maybe the problem is there is no one safe enough to discuss anything with. I can write and say how sorry I am a thousand times and I still don’t feel right about it. Why should I be sorry for feelings? I am allowed to have feelings towards people whether they are positive or slightly skewed or not, if they don’t conform to others, it is their problem. And if I am wrong in my assumptions I will say so.

So maybe I will write about one thing that is bothering me….

Baptism. I’ve been asking the pastor at my church since June 2009 and in January of this year to be baptised and I feel like get nowhere. He keeps saying I have to read this or tells me I tell him I’ m not ready or I should do that, but other people come forward and announce they want too and lickity split there being dunked in water, something beautiful, something paramount to announcing their Christian faith. It’s the beginning of a new life. Rah! However, I am happy for them but I neglected to attended, but not for these reasons. I just know this journey may never happen for me.

Is it because I had an entire crush on the pastor? (Because that is indeed who Pretty Blue Eyes is and it was an entire waste of my time. AN ENTIRE WASTE!) Am I too open minded? Is it because I once belonged to the Mormon faith? It’s not like I didn’t have my name removed or denounced it a billion times. Is it because I don’t fit in with the crowd at the church?

Well now I don’t want too get baptised anymore and I am not even sure I want to be Christian. The more I try the more depressed I feel. I feel no connection to these people, cut off. I guess I don’t wear the right clothes. (The red sweater is a faux pas? )When I lived with my mom that meant no identity? I can’t even write on this blog without any back lash. This is not to say some haven’t been positive influences and kind to me and I appreciate it. I just know its not who I am. I’m still figuring this out!

Perhaps I should erase a few paragraphs of my spiritual journey and start over again! If my friends or my mom want to blame the devil for this decision then they are more then welcome. I am sure he (if he is indeed real) is used to being used as a scapegoat by now. I just hope I am strong enough to handle the onslaught of religious guilt that will be thrown at me.

And those who do not like my blog or what I write can choose not to read it. If they have a problem they can come talk to me instead of telling others behind my back. It’s as simple as that.

P.S. I am not an atheist!

Melissa Computer?

2010-08-26T01:02:00.001-07:00

I want to write something positive for once!

After a whirlwind trip to Vancouver, where my little brother was subjected to 3 doctors appointments in 1 day in a span of just hours, evil taxi drivers, my computer becoming a babysitter/ calmness enabler (more on that later) and I surviving the antics of Hev-Lady; It appears Tony (my brother)most likely won’t need surgery due to his scoliosis as the doctor believes he has stopped growing and therefore if no more growing takes place he’d be able to function with the spine he has (which is just as twisty and scary as my mind.:P )This is something I am thankful for because it apparently is a very painful procedure and my brother has a enough issues without having to recover from major surgery. Phew!

As for my computer, the battery was practically drained both trips on the plane…

Was subjected to certain spills

Was used to keep my brother occupied

A reason for a 6:30 am wake up call…

My brother is obsessed with my computer.

Me: (Arriving at car which will take us to the Vancouver trip of all tiredness.) Hi Tony!

Tony: AHAAHDFHSDFHLSDKFHKJDSHFJKSHD! MELISSA!

Chauffer person (Mom had someone help us get to and fromJ): (Wincing) Oh oh ummm….Tony?

Mom: (she is used to this therefore it is of no consequence Tony:) Yes Tony it’s your sister

Me: Yay its Tony!

Tony: MELISSA! MELISSA COMPUTER! MELISSA DOLLIES! Melissa Computer?

Me: Maybe later.

Tony: Whoooo oooohhhh

Later On:

Me: So Tony who would you like to sit with on the plane? Mom or Me?

Ummmm Melissa computer?

Me: You want to sit with my computer?

Tony: Yah!

Mom: (Laughs)

Even later on after we went through security and Tony checked to make sure my computer was alright.

Tony: (Super stoked about going on the plane, makes a mad dash for the metal bird and as he ascends the stairs he asks the flight attendant…) Melissa computer allowed? Play Melissa computer?

Flight attendant (Her name is Melanie by the way and like most people has no clue what Tony is on about.)

Me: He wants to know if my computer is allowed on and if he can play my computer on the plane?

Melanie: Yes just as soon we are in the air and the Captain has taken off the fasten seatbelt sign.

Tony: Whoooooo MELISSA COMPUTER!

Melanie: (directs us to our seats, I sit by Tony. I have the computer after all.)

Tony: (Every 2 seconds) Melissa computer?

Me: Yes just as soon as the seatbelt light is off (I point the seatbelt sign to him)

Meanwhile the airplane rises into the air of altitudes of 23,000 ft. I know I shouldn’t be scared of flying after going overseas and all but….ummm yes

Tony: (Watching plane lift off with mad interest)

10 seconds later…Light blinks out.

Tony: Melissa Computer?

Me: Yes Tony.

This happened pretty much the exact same way on the flight home, except the flight attendant on the way home was named Meadow and she was a blonde not a brunette. Anyways thanks to Tony, when I got home I swear I had Spiderman and/or Harry Potter engraved in my eyeballs.

P.S. My brother is my hero!

The Scope of it.

2010-08-09T15:36:00.000-07:00

Me: Hello? (now what does she want?)
Mom: (frantically) I think you took the wrong scope.
Me: What the?
Mom: You took the wrong scope?
Me: I have no idea what you’re talking about?
Mom: You know the mouthwash.
Me: You mean the Listerine? (oh right I did take her full bottle of mouthwash by accident….yes that it an accident, she was using mine anyway.)
Mom: I had a full bottle and you had less then half of the Scope left.
Me: You mean the Listerine?
Mom: Whatever!
Me: I guess I did?
Mom: Yeah well anyways…what you doing?
Me: It’s Listerine not Scope!
Mom: Scope, mouthwash, Listerine, whatever! I’m not in the mood to be corrected. Melissa. It doesn’t matter what it’s called you knew what I was talking about.
Me: Actually I didn’t (although I did have an idea after about the second time she told me.)
Mom: Oh? Something, something, something…
Me: I am on my way to work.
Mom: I thought so…
Me: I have to go. I’m almost there!
Mom: OK. I just wanted to let you know about the mouthwash.
Me: OK….bye!

The issue of the mouthwash hasn’t been properly resolved yet. I guess she wants me to buy her a new bottle? Great something else I owe her.

I have some pretty long conversations with my mom. She never calls about anything specifically she just wants to talk. You know that point in the conversation where you’re not really even listening to the person anymore and you start to phase out and maybe plan how to exit the conversation politely? I do that a lot, but it doesn’t make it any less awkward. It’s not like I can just hang up on her. I’ve purposely antagonized her just so she will hang up, which is also morally corrupt. I mean I can but it is my mother after all. It’s kind of like “yep, yes, uh huh, oh sorry I have to ummm get ready to go now, I have to go to umm work or I just woke up I’m not ready for conversation yet,” especially when Hev-Lady wants to talk about her every day activities. For instance gardening, the dogs, and her personal issues; I really feel like a councilor some days, perhaps I should start charging her. She certainly spends enough sending me 4+ texts a day and a voicemail.

Since yesterday I have been struggling with the stories I am working on. I can’t seem to get a plot together for Fizzy Lemonade. It’s coming together. But I think I am slightly obsessed to the point I sit there with my notebook at the kitchen table and write out a bunch of nonsensical scribbling about how I can work it out. I have no one to bounce story ideas off of anymore it seems. I get the “this actually goes on in your head look?” I had one friend say I have a very twisty mind and she’d love to see inside it. I wouldn’t recommend it unless she wants to meander around in a sometimes dark, scatterbrained, random place. They’d either come out highly amused or scarred for life.

P.S. Today has been one of those lazy days…

My final Public Post: Me and Mormonism Part 4

2010-07-28T21:16:00.001-07:00

Yesterday was a big day. I got so caught up over opinions regarding my blog that I forgot to mention something I find truly freeing.

I had just arrived home and I saw a pile of envelopes on the table underneath my roommates mail was….

A letter from The Church of Jesus Christ of Later Day Saints saying they acknowledge my letter, but it has to be sent to the Branch President in Terrace to hand it as it’s an ecclesiastical matter as well as a very pretty brochure encouraging me to come back and they are so very sorry if they offended me, etc.

Here is it as follows: (I know my friend whom in my elation was the first one to read said I should scan it and post it but I cannot wait to share :P I promise I shall post it and the brochure next time once I find a scanner.)

“Dear Sister McKenna:

I have been asked to acknowledge your recent letter in which you request at your name be removed from the records of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

I have also been asked to inform you that the Church considers such a request an ecclesiastical matter that must be handled by local priesthood leaders before being processed by Church employees. Therefore, your letter and a copy of this reply are being sent to President of the Canada Vancouver Mission. He will have President Ivan D. Bohle of the Terrace Branch contact you concerning the fulfillment of your request.

In view of the eternal consequences of such an action, the Brethren urge you to reconsider your request and to prayerfully consider the enclosed statement of the First Presidency.

Sincerely,

Gregory W. Dodge

Manager, Member and Statistical Records.”

So very soon I could be getting a phone call, maybe even some missionaries, home teachers or the bishop paying me a visit because they are so very concerned about me leaving the church, never mind the fact I asked them not bother me. Figures.

The thing is I don’t consider myself a Latter Day Saint. I follow a different Jesus then they do. Their prior President Gordon B. Hinckley even admitted they follow a different Jesus then orthodox Christians. I don’t think Mormons are bad people they are just misguided and on a different path then the one I want to be on. It’s personal it’s not an attack against them or anything. I know they want to stop me out of love, but if they love me they will let me go.

I know this sounds weird but I think I was being set up for this time as I had to deal with a couple of Jehovah’s Witnesses earlier that day. I failed miserably I couldn’t even at least witness to them that I was comfortable with my faith. I couldn’t even say thank you for your interest but I am Christian. Can I say that to a Mormon missionary or whomever accosts me at home or over the telephone? They consider themselves Christians too, despite that most religious scholars say otherwise and have considerable evidence to prove their standpoint.

Also what is going to happen when Sue-Woman and Jim- Lady Man find out? Will they disown me? My aunt and uncle might be a bit PO’d as well. You know what though; it’s not for them to decide is it?

In regards to the disaster this blog has created. I edited all the posts in which I feel made any reference to anyone I know that was inappropriate. I am not going to write about anyone I know anymore. In fact as I know there are a lot of online readers I haven’t met. I am considering making this blog private again to ensure this nonsense and hurt can’t happen anymore. Therefore, if this happens you may need to request an invitation to read. Sorry this has to happen but I’m sick of the BS and grief it has caused me. I can’t be putting anymore people into therapy over what I write. I am truly sorry I hurt anyone and I know that I am not the only one hurting. The whole world is!

Melissa :)

P.S. Pretty Blue Eyes is officially no more! I’d rather have a Hawk Eyed Pearce or a Captain Kirk instead. Hmmmph!

All will be revealed

2010-07-28T00:24:00.001-07:00

I found an interesting comment on my blog concerning my apology to an anonymous person (who wasn’t quite anonymous due to my curse of descriptiveness). So with out further adieu…

Here is the comment as follows…

Forgive me for I am not a writer and am not excellent at expressing myself. But this is no matter, I still have something to say.

What an awful apology. I know of all these people that you write about (as well as being one of them) and know that you would not be able to handle any of the awful words that you have said about them like they have since you started your blog.

I learnt a long time ago from the movie Bambi something very valuable; Thumper admits to his mother that you shouldn't say anything if you don't have anything nice to say. Also the bible tells us that we should do unto others as we would have done to us. Melissa I beg of you to delete the entirety of this blog so that the hurt, gossip, and need for constant apologies can stop.

An apology is so much more than just saying sorry - it means that the apologizer will also stop doing whatever it was that needed to be apologized for in the first place. But even after apologizing the hurtful words about others still contiues.

This whole situation has dampened my spirits for sometime now. All of the people that you have spoken about with hate have all worked hard to be a positive influences in your life and as this blog proves you have turned a blind eye to their kindness. Stop looking for annoyances, but instead look for the positive blessings that God gives you each day. I hope that you will soon be able to understand the hurt that you are causing. You are not the only one who is hurting and this venue for healing your pains is not the right one. Please know this and take it to heart.

And now it is my turn to reply:

Firstly, I will have you know Mr (and or) Ms. Anonymous Commenter who doesn’t even have the decency to reveal themselves to me in real life or on the comment itself, (unlike the friend who finally brought my misguided words it to my attention.) I started this blog way before I met anyone whom you say I am talking about. I started this blog October 2005 as a chronicle of my journey to Australia. It has since transcended my Australian adventures and is now a day to day account of my random musings. I did not even know you then. You made it sound like I started this blog a few months ago, try a few years ago. When I started this blog, I never set out to hurt anyone or dampen anyone’s spirits. I set out to write, enough said. No malicious intent intended.

Yes the words were harmful I acknowledged that. I apologised to the persons involved She didn’t accept which was her right. I even apologised to God. I have written some pretty mean things about others too in the past. I apologised, should have learnt the first time but I did not. I am human sometimes people make mistakes and yes they should be lessons, but sometimes it’s easy to ignore, because its easier to forget the pain the mistakes have cost. Especially someone like me who likes to be honest and write what I want with out thinking.

You whole comment is blatantly contradicting throughout. Apparently this whole blog debacle was talked about behind my back. If you may remember I put a clear warning I was about to write stuff which people may find offensive….

“Warning: this entry will most likely incriminate myself!” – June 12 2010

I even wrote a further explanation about the entry the next day….

I knew what I was doing was wrong. I wasn’t doing it for vindication….its my blog I was frustrated over something irrational. I like to write what I think, what I feel, I have no sensors and the editing when I write (and when I talk) so it all comes out like vomit. I can’t stop it, it just comes out and this blog just happens to be my toilet bowl.

I also deleted the entry as a way to show I am sorry, but sadly the damage is done, it cannot be fixed completely, but at least I tried on my own terms. I am sorry but this is my blog and I am the one who decides if it will be deleted. I don’t think I have been hateful in anyway, just truthful.

You’re right you’re not a writer, but I am. I write because to me everything in life that I experience, every essence begs me to record it and to express it somehow or I seriously explode from madness. I have to write or I will wither inside. But, for someone who claims not to be good at expressing themselves you did a pretty good job of it.

You know what I will never write about them again because of the hurt I have caused them whether they even read it or not. And if you had enough balls like my friend who brought this to my attention you’d ask me who I was writing about her in the first place. Or like some who apparently were talking about this whole conundrum behind my back. If you think I was writing about you in any other entries, you are more then welcome to ask me to my face not hide behind the computer screen like a coward.

Thank you very much for your opinions. I have considered them as you can tell. I will leave it at that before I continue to rant. Also my friend Jo left you a lovely response to this on the entry perhaps you may like to read that as well.

P.S. I am apparently sound like a tattle tale! Dude something about this is so elementary school.

The Ultimate Designer!

2010-07-18T22:08:00.001-07:00

God to me is the ultimate designer, a writer an artist, a scientist, an enigma.

He is the author of creation.

His words are more powerful then man, transcending generations.

Love everlasting beyond all comprehension

The holder of salvation

Like any great artist or novelist the world to Him was once like a blank piece of paper

Darkness waiting for light

Waiting for His words, His art, His wisdom

And with these talents He brought life.

All creation hand crafted

Our very image is reflected in Him.

An author knows all about their characters and who they are meant to be.

God knows everyone and who they will become!

Everywhere at once and with everyone at all times.

Intimately involved in there lives whether they admit it or not.

Those who know him long to know Him more,

The celebrate the truth of there being

A life with meaning, with out darkness

Whilst other refuse to acknowledge Him,

Hidden in the dark, never seeing the beauty of light

Refusing to see his signature inscribed on us, in the world we live.

Yet, nothing happens by chance,

Only fools say in there words and in there hearts God does not exist.

But,

God is the author of creation and salvation.

Our existence is absurd with out Him

P.S. It’s a poem I wrote for church service this Sunday, but the Pit-bull made me work. :( So I missed the reading of it.

A typical Tuesday?

2010-07-17T21:43:00.001-07:00

OWE MY ENTIRE LEGS! They feel like lead weights. I’m surprised can even stand upright…Perhaps I should explain…

It all started like a typical Tuesday morning. You know the old routine, dragging my tired ass out of bed, having my daily coffee, which I have to have or as my roomie puts it I’ll ‘have one mother of a headache’ (stupid caffeine addiction!) Then I make my lunch, get dressed etc…the usual mundane things.

That day I was very anxious because I had to let some new cashiers shadow me, I am so anal retentive about my till that it was painful to let someone else do it, who clearly had no idea what they were doing. Also as it was my sign in number any mistake they make I’ll get the love letters (till audits) for. I made them bag mostly. I probably drove the newbie’s crazy.

For instance, I have to have my bills all facing the same way and my credit card receipts in a certain place in a neat little pile and I bagging merchandise for customers is a whole other story.… Do not put cleaner with food and keep the cold stuff together, THE END! I was so observant of everything, every mistake was magnified. One girl kept forgetting to scan stuff and when I told her she argued with me. I of course proved I was right. One girl that shadowed me was so scared she was shaking. I suggested she try the PA for a price check, so she could learn how it was done and she looked liked she was going to be sick. It didn’t help this cashier trainee also had really bad breath and/or body odour. It was torture. I am surprised I remained so patient on this typical Tuesday.

Then as I ended my shift….The Pit bull (Front End Manager) pulled me aside and told me I was going to be CSM (Customer Service Manager) yay! So my day ended really for once! Basically I was entirely promoted!

Since then I have been running around like a chicken with my head cut off. Everyone wants you at once and you are always moving, and then add my new endeavours of walking to work so I can get in shape. I could barely walk home. Strangely enough I like it!

P.S. I have a new place a new position at work, now all I need is a drivers licence a car and a boyfriend.

An entire apology for nothing!

2010-07-11T13:05:00.001-07:00

In the words of Sarah Evans “Oh my goodness!”

I swear to God I keep contradicting myself because someone doesn’t like what I do, makes me feel bad and therefore I go against myself and apologise for being honest (about a anonymous person by the way.)

I deleted the “Poisonous Secret” entry because it turns out…

Anonymous girl whom I wrote rather nasty things about hadn’t even read it. So to save future damage to this girls feelings whom I realise isn’t a bad person intelligence or not.

Pretty Blue Eyes caught me in my attempt to be brave and say I am sorry. So I was upfront and honest and told him what had happened and said I had to apologise to her. He said something quite the opposite.

Pretty Blue Eyes: Why the furrowed brow?

Me: Oh no reason. I just wrote some nasty comments about such and such on my blog! I am way to honest when I write sometimes and it backfires.

Pretty Blue Eyes: Oh really? (Something along those lines)

Me: Now I think I have to apologise and its way harder then it sounds.

Pretty Blue Eyes: No doubt about it…

Me: I feel really bad…such and such told me and it made me cry so I knew it was wrong… (I was careful not to mention it was about him and her, although I had the sneaky suspicion he does know on some level due to his acute intelligence in certain matters.)

Pretty Blue Eyes: Have you deleted it?

Me: No! I figured the damage has already been done!

Pretty Blue Eyes: (Laughs that weird silent laugh when he is highly amused with something I have said) Maybe you should delete it so no more damage can be done.

Me: I guess

Pretty Blue Eyes: Maybe don’t even tell her about your blog, because you could be causing unnecessary hurt.

Me: But such and such implied she had read it! (Turns out it was just my overactive imagination telling me she had!)

Pretty Blue Eyes: Well I guess you have to do what you have to do.

Put it this way, apology wasn’t accepted. I went to apologise and it was hell of an awkward situation because she didn’t even know what I was talking about just like Pretty Blue Eyes suggested.

Me: Hi I don’t know if you’ve read my blog, but I felt it was important to apologise to you about what I had written about you, which was rather hurtful.

Girl: (Awkwardly) Ah OK? I’ve never read it!

Me: (awkward moment arrives, my friend Chris would say this is the moment a gay baby is born…) Well I thought I would say sorry anyways just in case. I deleted it so no further damage can be done.

Girl: Well what did you write?

Me: (Oh fucking hell! You that you were a twat, blabedy blah nothing too horrible) Uh well I was having these nightmares where I was very mean to you and I wrote about it.

Girl: Well what is it about? (She asked me several times actually)

Me: It wasn’t very nice at all! I deleted to save you from further hurt or embarrassment.

Girl: So you’re not even comfortable to tell me? (She said that a lot too!)

Me: Nooooo…(Not a Philis Philmore type of no by the way.) (Oh my God this is painfully awkward!) You really don’t want to know.

Girl: I am going to wonder now? Why won’t you tell me?

Me: It was all about irrational jealousy…

Girl: (obviously even more confused) about what?

Me: Oh you know random stuff! (I should have just said it was about my presumptions about her and Pretty Blue Eyes.)

Girl: Well I wish I could say apology accepted but I don’t even know what you are talking about and you won’t tell me…

Me: Ask such and such…I can send it too you if you really want to read it! I mean I didn’t even use your name.

Girl: So why are you apologising?

Me: Oh this is so painfully awkward…because I wrote about you!

So it kind of ended there…after agonising minute after minute of perpetual confusion and gay babies being born….(50 or more had to have been brought into this world.) she was really nice about it and everything. And I don’t feel mean jealous feelings anymore. At least now I can say I am not two-faced. I also I learnt I wish I kept my feelings between Pretty Blue Eyes and I. Kept it private where it belonged now its just a big mess. I wish I hadn’t listened to my friend about this either, even though she meant well. At least I’ve attempted to make it right with the universe and God!

Pretty Blue Eyes summed it up when he said “It wasn’t like you are the best of friends anyways so at least you can get over it.” He also said I had balls for being forward and apologising as well as having an ego boost because he was all knowing and right about this in the first place. Why didn’t I just tell him what happened a week ago! His advice usually pans out even if I feel like a twat in the process.

Ah matters of the heart will they ever end?

P.S. I’m making banana blueberry muffins woot!

Cheeseburger Cookies!

2010-07-08T20:09:00.001-07:00

Another night at the library...(whilst my computer is off being repaired!) mostly to escape the heat outside and to have some alone time to think. Its becoming a habit. I am a habitual reoccurring character who graces the presence of the small town library. I get a lot of books here. In fact I think they know all the authors I like, because I continually harass them about the lack of Robert Rankin books there is not a single one in this entire library! THE ENTIRE LIBRARY! I have to get an interlibrary loan and if I take longer then 3 weeks and want to renew them and I have more then one book well I know for a fact the library will get pissy with me. It's the same thing with Christopher Moore! Except they only had 2 of his books, luckily now more have arrived but by the time they became part of the regular catalogue here I had to make numerous interlibrary loans rah! It only took a missing book from the Acorna series (because for some reason they think its proper to have all the books except the second) I discovered I could borrow from other libraries. Too bad I didn't realise this when I was pretty much going crazy because they didn't have the Thursday Next series by Jasper Fforde. They only have his newest book, but they are still very much Jasper deprived!

Too bad I discovered a new author I like. They know this because I brought six books at once!

The author is Joanne Fluke, she satisfies both of my interests, reading and baking....Her series of Hannah Swensen books are about a baker/sleuth from Lake Eden Minnesota who somehow always manages to come across murder victims. They all had it coming too for either being a complete not-wat or seducing the whole of the towns married men or just pissing off the wrong people, which pretty much implicates a lot of people in town. Anyways Hannah always manages to solve the case, whilst baking for her shop, handing two men, a cat and dealing with mother who kind of reminds me of Sue-Woman who is insistent in marrying her off. I can usually figure out who did it which is a bit annoying but I really only read the books for the recipes...which I attempted like blueberry muffins, cookies (which yield way more then I can eat) and these which I sooooo want to make someday.

They are cheeseburger cookies! YUMMY!

Anyways, does the library have all 13 books in the series....no they do not. I found 8. I have six taken out and ready to read...Therefore I should either stop reading series or grumble some more as always. Or arrive at the lovely front desk and make another interlibrary loan request and confirm more then once that they do not HAVE the books here. The library calls me more about books which have come in for me only a close second Hev-Lady, my work is in third place...

P.S. The heat is not so fun...It seems like summer came out of nowhere.

Pit-Bulls Me and Mormonism Part 3

2010-07-07T20:00:00.000-07:00

Today started off rather intrusively.

Roommate: Melissa! Melissa!

Me: Huh?

Roommate: (probably pissed off because its 8:20 in the morning) Melissa! Phone!

Me: (stirs a little…as I am still waking up) Uh?

Roommate: Melissa! Phone! Phone! PHONE!

Me: Oh!…(answers)

Pit-bull (manger from work, don’t worry it’s an affectionate nickname): Hi Melissa sorry to call you so early. I was wondering if you’d like a shift today…at 10:30?

Me: (Wooh hooo They gave me more than 30 seconds notice) Sure!

Pit-bull: You’ll really take it! (sounded like a kid arriving at the candy store, too bad she is diabetic :P)

Me: Yes! (Poor roommate did NOT look happy to be woken up.)

Anyways if it wasn’t for the Pit-bull calling me in….I wouldn’t have used the extra time to send off my letter to the Mormon Church with my name removal request…Woot! I sent it express too! After I kept struggling to get the address right, (I was nervous so sue me.) In fact I had an odd conversation with the post-lady she couldn’t understand that even if you stop going to Mormon Church you’re still a member.

Post-Lady: Express is just as cheaper then registered mail.

Me: OK. Why not I’ve been putting this off for too long.

Post-Lady: So do they have member records on genealogy?

Me: (Oh crap I ran into one of them) Uh I think so? You’re not a member are you? Because I am sending off a letter to remove my name from their records…

Post-Lady: No I am just doing family research I heard they have a lot of genealogical records.

It went on for a while before she finally stopped pestering me about it.

So in a few days either I am no longer a member or the harassment begins.

P.S. I think my friends are right when they say I shouldn’t sensor myself, but it doesn’t mean its right to hurt someone’s feelings.

A red sweater apology!

2010-07-03T22:46:00.001-07:00

Dear readers of the universe, people I have offended, people I love,

This isn’t really a proper apology; more of an explanation maybe even a question I must solve on my own.

I have been had. I can’t even wear the right sweater! My red one is too old, but I love my red sweater. I can’t even write anything with out it coming under scrutiny even if it is deserved, but I love writing. I feel like I am under attack because I don’t live up to peoples expectations. I don’t feel like they want me too. I don’t do what they want me too. I am not an individual if I live at home with Hev-Lady. Maybe I am just wasting my time trying to appease other people’s standards, when really I should use my own.

I digress:

A friend of mine figured out who I was writing about earlier…regarding the nightmares about someone and other things as well.

Things better kept private to myself. This is of course is in regards to some truthful, damaging and subjective opinions on someone that I don’t really know, but for some reason I am irrationally jealous of. Just because I have it in my brain she likes the same guy I do.

I know that I am doing it and I sit at my computer and watch the poisonous words flow out on to screen with a care of who I am hurting. I know its wrong but I do it anyways. I don’t care it’s not like I am taking a dagger and stabbing them in the back physically, but it’s written out for everyone to see. I was writing my feelings out of selfishness because apparently I feel I am so special everyone must know how I hate this or hate that.

The venom which seeps from my fingers to the keyboard is not just limited to this one person, but many others, some anonymous and some not so secret. (Think Hev-Lady. Joan)

The moment I knew I was caught in my double faced activities I was instantaneously filled with warm dread and fear. I felt horrible! How could I dillude myself into thinking that the person I was winging about would never read it?

Friend: You have such a gift for writing and your creativity astounds me.

Me: Oh thank you? (I think I was bashful about it.)

Friend: But then I read things on your blog that is brilliant but not so nice. I think higher of you so it saddened me to read it because I know you are better then that.

Me: I have a bad habit of being a bit to honest….(starting to feel uncomfortable, perhaps even the sneaky suspicion I was being buttered up for an enormous blow of some sort) what do you mean exactly?

Friend: Did you want to talk about it now?

Me: Whenever?

Friend: I know who you were writing about someone from our group found it and pointed it out to me. I know you were writing about…

Me: (No point in denying it) Yes but it wasn’t meant to be taken offensively. I was just writing what I think.

Friend: Yes but you used words like twat!

Me: I feel really bad…that would explain why she avoids me.

It went on like this for awhile….and well… I thank this friend for her honesty, but now I am ashamed and she was supportive and told me I should make it right, etc… I ended up walking home crying in the rain because I couldn’t get my point across and because I know what I did was wrong and felt very guilty about it. Very depressing.

It’s irony because I dreamt about this conversation with this person and I am exposed. I don’t like it, but then again…

No one likes know that you don’t like them written on the a very public space, to be called a twat, told they dress like a hooker or have everyone know I think they are not the brightest crayons in the box (lacking intelligence) or be called a second hand refurbished car which is basically (this is referring to the distasteful car analogy regarding virginity.) to make it known that I subscribe to the harsh patriarchal judgements regarding a females virginity, which by the way is a myth. It doesn’t make a girl any more or less then a person…it’s really just a way to suppress a female’s sexual power. Even if in my mind I think its true, doesn’t make it right or true, it just makes it subjective and cruel.

I tried to explain to this friend it was my feelings they weren’t meant to hurt anyone. I just wanted to get them out in the open. I tried writing it privately, praying about it, talking to someone impartial which was very hard to do by the way. The best I got was someone who disliked this person just as much, which was kind of unhealthy and I knew it would backfire. The nightmares have stopped! I feel freer from the jealousy because now it is out there. Now there is no secret its not weighing me down.

But damn it interpretation is a bitch! Subjective as well, which is why it made perfect sense to me when Roland Barthes said there are no author only readers? This is also why I have some anxiety over language because nothing will ever be read the same way. It’s a instrument I have no control over. I have no control over how anyone is going to read this blog once its public, my original intention to just vent and share my writing for whomever wants to read it, could be taken to be mean spirited, which of course I am not saying it isn’t! So now everyone knows that not only do I not like this person I am jealous because of her relationship with someone else and apparently it is being taken as a personal attack. When really (and I must insist) it isn’t!

I seem to make lovely messes in the act of my writing. Bluntness is my enemy, but I like it. I like being honest when I write, sometimes to the point my honesty is warped into harpoon gun of nastiness. It’s like if you piss me off I may not tell you too your face but you can surely read about it in my blog then you will know how much I entirely want to punch you in the face or verbally attack you, etc. I don’t care if anyone gets hurt until it’s too late. Maybe I haven’t learnt?

I am just so frustrated with myself and others that I bottle up everything so I can viciously attack people. Those nasty dreams I had about this girl should have stayed in my proper journal not on the web. I would delete these entries (there are other about this person), but it is kind of redundant seeing as it has been up for a while and the damage is done. I didn’t do it to hurt this girl. I did it to vent my frustrations. I was being selfish and wanted to vent. I am guilty as charged! I pretty much asked for it.

Do you think I like being jealous? Jealousy is powerful. Like it says in Proverbs 14: 30: “A peaceful heart leads to a healthy body but jealousy is like cancer in the bones.” Bare in mind however feelings are normal! Some you cannot control and it makes you do stupid things like writing mean things on the Internet.

I wish I could say there is such thing as freedom of speech and expression, but there isn’t. Yes I can write whatever I want with out a monetary value or risk being locked away in jail, but there is a price to pay. Someone has hurt feelings because of me. I have guilt that I can feel to the very core of my heart. I have to deal with the embarrassment of my subjectivity and somehow try to apologise to this person face to face. Which will be entirely awkward…”Oh I am sorry I don’t like you? I never meant to hurt you. I did like such and such but if you like him it’s OK. I may not like it but it’s OK. I was might still be jealous that is my problem not yours…” you get the picture!

P.S. To add to the irony I am wearing the red sweater. I WILL not be getting a new one either! I am the one wearing it not you so tough beans. I love my red sweater.

P.S.S: I am sorry!

Resignation! Me and Mormonism Part 2

2010-06-21T00:26:00.001-07:00

I am officially sending a resignation letter some time this week to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I await the results with much anxiety. I know there are others who are going through a similar process. It’s taken some time to write what I want to say…Thanks to the Internet and supportive friends from my church there were plenty of resources to aid me in this. I may not be fully Christian but at least I know I will no longer have to be tied to something I have long since rejected.

I suggest you visit these sites for further reference: It is actually quite interesting.

ExMormon.org

Leaving the church...by Richard Packham

Name removal and such...

Here is my letter as follows: Any input would be lovely, but not necessary. And for anyone out there this may help as an example of what the letter should look like and what needs to be include.

Dear Sirs,

This letter is to you officially inform you of my resignation from membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, effective immediately. With my resignation I voluntarily sever all my relationship to the church.

I have not attended Church regularly since I was 13. In fact I was only an active member for a few months after my baptism in April 1998 whilst I was living in Lethbridge Alberta Canada. I soon fell away from it after I realised it was not for me.

The truth is I don’t know if I believed The Church of Jesus Christ of Later Day Saints. Never once did I fully read The Book of Mormon, except Sunday school. The missionaries who taught me encouraged me to pray with sincerity concerning the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon, citing a verse in its closing book: Moroni 10:4.

I never read past 1Nephi. I had no desire to read it. That should have been a sign to me right there the church was not right for me, but as I had a desire to please my family and find a way to Jesus at the time I felt it was the right thing to do.

Sadly I never had a testimony of The Church or Joseph Smith, which is paramount to the LDS faith but I do have a testimony of Jesus Christ, which is what I believe to be much more substantial to my salvation. I am building a foundation for a relationship and my faith in Him is growing. Since beginning my journey to fully know Him learning the truth of Christianity I believe it’s important to sever my ties to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

I assure you that I do not take this step lightly. I have devoted a good deal of thought, prayer and study, over a considerable period of time, (which for me was 10 years!) to this matter, and I am firm and irreversible in my decision to end my membership and I will not change my mind.

I therefore request you to make the necessary changes in the church membership records to indicate that I am no longer a member. I am familiar with the procedures as outlined in the Church Handbook of Instructions, and I request that you fill out and forward the necessary administrative forms as soon as possible. I am aware that according to church doctrine this cancels all blessings, baptisms, ordinations, promises, covenants, and my hope of exaltation in the celestial kingdom, and I have made my decision with that consideration well in mind.

I request that no one representing the church contact me for any reason other than to confirm that my request is being processed. Please state the "reason for leaving." "At member's request" or "Doctrinal reasons," since that is my reason. I am not leaving the church because of some personal matter or insult, or because I have "sinned" or am unable to "keep the commandments.

I request that my name removal request be forwarded to the stake president in accordance with the Church Handbook of Instructions. Please inform him that I waive the thirty-day waiting period during which the stake president may hold the request in order to give me the opportunity to revoke. Please ask the stake president if possible to notify me when he has forwarded my request to church headquarters if possible.

I have friends and family who are Latter Day Saints and I hold no ill will towards them, so please do not take this letter as a personal attack towards your faith. This has weighed heavily on my conscience for many years and I feel it’s not fair to be a member of a faith I do not truly believe in. By severing ties I feel I will be able to see Jesus for who he truly is.

Thank you for your courtesy in honouring my request

Yours truly,

Melissa

I shall keep you updated…

Hmmmm…?

2010-06-17T23:05:00.001-07:00

An encounter with a white cardigan like shirt I have aquired for some reason inspired a Philis and Ashleigh story…but now I am too tired to write it so I shall hopefully have it ready next time.

P.S. I am reading Pride and Prejudice. Mr. Darcy is rude!

A poisonous secret!?

2010-06-12T20:09:00.001-07:00

THIS POST HAS BEEN DELETED Despite the fact the damage has been done! If anyone wants to read the original post I have it still, not that I would recommend it. I go back on my decisions all the time. I do not however apologise for my feelings. They are real however irrational they are.

Melissa :)

I want to eat your face!

2010-06-10T22:32:00.001-07:00

2010 is all about changes. New house, new bus schedule, new roommates, etc.

Well moving has definitely been an adventure. For starters I am living in a rich neighbourhood. I never thought that would happen. I’ve visited such neighbourhoods, have friends who live in them but never have I been a resident. It just seems too nice to be true. I’ve officially been moved into my new digs a week now. I am still not to sure about it, but at the same time it feels like I have been here way longer.

I am really curious, where the expression “It’s not rocket science!” come from. I seem to say this frequently in terms of random interactions with people.

It’s like the mad scientist in the science fiction movie who brings a hostile being onto a space ship and is quite convinced it is not hostile even when it sings “I want to eat your face.” I mean seriously…

This was just way to funny not to share….

P.S. Ice cream is my vice.

The sunburnt tale…

2010-06-02T23:30:00.001-07:00

One upon a time on a fiery yet beautiful Sunday afternoon a fair skinned nerdy (not weird or retarded anymore) girl was forced into labouring in a garden by a robust heavy set well tanned gardening type middle aged female of the mom variety. Fair skinned girl has skin as white as snow and having her head in the clouds as she usually does forgot to bring…

A: A hat

B: Sunscreen (SPF 50 or more I kid you not…)

T’was a silly mistake because she knows that she does not tan she BURNS! This was followed by a enormous headache from lack of hat but a very nasty burn. The next two days after were very painful and on the third day as she was healing she became very itchy. You think after the monumental sunburn nearly four years ago in Australia where her skin blistered because of it and took a week to heal she’d remember such a simple item as sunscreen? Apparently not!

This fair skinned girl is me! And the gardening mom is of course Hev-Lady. So what did I learn from this experience? To bring sunscreen, wear a hat and that gardening isn’t so bad despite the creepy tent caterpillars landing on me yuck!

Anyways I put vitamin e on it, but my dog Sydney kept licking it off…it went somewhat like this.

Me: Owe my entire arms!’

Sydney: Sniff sniff….hmmm this seems to taste good.

Me: Arghgghghgh! Go away Sydney!

So I tried Aloe Vera and the same thing happened. He followed me around giving me a lickin’ for being a bad girl and forgetting sunscreen.

And a big thing I learnt but probably already know people sure love to state the fucking obvious. I am at work and my arms are bright red no thanks to the fluorescent lighting. I think every single customer mentioned my sunburn or asked me what happened when it was blatantly obvious. I just smiled and nodded and of course they wanted to know how I got the lovely burn. Did I go to the lake? Or perhaps did I fall asleep outside? Etc, etc… What really made it all worth while was when some guy thought it would be funny to poke me and when I said owe he laughed and told me to use Aloe Vera. Then the next day a customer patted me on the arm on my sunburn. It hurt I said owe. He laughed and said sorry and continued to pat my arm. Arghhh! Is it me or some people too stupid to be let out in public?

I really don’t know what else to write about….

P.S. I moved house!

Dirty Old Randomness

2010-05-14T20:54:00.001-07:00

In a few weeks I will be embarking on a whole new adventure. No more Hev-Lady! I shall out on my own as well as some much need privacy. I kid you not I am moving because my current room has no door. There is some nice green vinyl blinds and a curtain I attacked to keep the light out at night. No door means no privacy as sometimes I’ll be in the middle of getting dressed and my mother swings the curtains/blinds wide open to talk about toot (more often then not) and then there is noise because Hev-Lady stays up till all hours sometimes and all I hear is the TV. I will also finally have my bed sans dog and cat, not that I do not enjoy there company, but I’d like to stretch around with out an pregnant old lady dog grunting at me or hear the dog snore continuously. On a positive note I think if I ever married a snorer now I’d be able to handle it. My only space is a sardine can…I can’t wait to upgrade.

This of course means I am endeavouring to get rid or my collection of things I no longer need. Surprisingly I have been able to with minimal reluctance either donate stuff or throw it out all together. When I was 17 till about 23 I went through a phase where I really liked saving pictures from magazines for collages or just having them. I threw out a whole pile of them. I saved rocks. ROCKS! And marbles, small floor tiles, old buttons, toys, fabric, etc. I just collected the random stuff!

And for more randomness I don’t think I am quite over Pretty Blue Eyes some days. I don’t feel gushy for him or anything I am just more annoyed that I even bothered.

I finally finished some more of Fizzy Lemonade yesterday… It’s about as random as my junk collection.

P.S. Today was beautiful! But I had to work :(

A mere update for the sake of it

2010-05-06T22:06:00.001-07:00

Tis been a long absence of late…

Not much has happened really, except baking banana blueberry muffins of all awesomeness, scones of equal deliciousness, working, sleeping, sewing and writing a bit here and there.

When I am baking I feel productive, when I write and sew I feel relaxed, when I work I feel restless and when I am sleeping I have some pretty fucked up dreams.

Writing about such banal activities seems so self-centred.

Anyways, I am moving out of home FINALLY! I will officially be thrown back into the whole roommate (flatmate) situation except this time I already know who I will be living with and they are also pretty cool people.

The only downside is…my dog and cat cannot come with me, but it was either dog or cat, stay insane in this stuck-like situation or pass off opportunity to grow away from it.

P.S. I don’t think I am cut out for Christianity some days.

Bad attitude?!

2010-04-24T21:43:00.001-07:00

Sorry for the absence…I have been busy. I tired, brought on by two jobs, a nagging mother, demanding dogs, crazy cats and a brother who is obsessed with Harry Potter.

So I will take this opportunity to let off some frustration.

Let’s see I think at both jobs I successfully made a tool out of myself…

Firstly by getting annoyed at another bitchy cashier who I am convinced is an entire twat now!

Another day at the express lane I am confined to the brig with Twinkly Eyed Twinkle Twat, (cashier) customers approach, 2001 A Space Odyssey plays just for dramatic effect…Star Trek Lady awaits direction from the cashiers…

Me: (jokingly) Hey did you want the customers!

Cashier: (pushes the queuing button, then grumbly bitchy like) I don’t see you working why should I?

Star Trek – Lady: Please proceed to register…

Me thinking: wtf!

Me: (just to prove I do work too) I’ll help bag!

Cashier: (scan, scan, scan completely ignoring me,) THEY WANT THEIR MILK IN A BAG! (throws bags at me!)

Me thinking: Fuck you too!

Me: No problem

Customer: Oh thank you so much for helping us bag

Me: No problem it comes with the job I am working! Oh I help the next person over at my till here!

Cashier: (glares)

Me thinking: Bitch!

Later on…

Me: (Observing Twinkie talking to another cashier. I push the button.)

Star Trek – Lady: Please proceed to register…

Me: (loudly but since my voice is so soft I was not heard, which is a good thing.)I guess I am working now, so should you!

Cashier: (ignores me)

Customers: Uh….

Me: She accused me of not working I am making a point!

Customers: Good for you.

Me: It has really fired me up some, please don’t think I am mad at you.

Customers: No problem…you always doing a good job when we come through your till.

Me: Exactly she is just being a twat!

Customers: (laughs.) You go girl!

Me: So!

I ummm repeated this for over half my shift…I went into a dastardly tirade. As well as avoiding contact with the evil fiend.

Then at job number two:

I could not pick up the pace. It was my only fourth shift and I am pokey ass slow! It was implied if I didn’t get faster soon, then I was doomed. DOOMED! I think I am just doomed period.

Then during dinner rush, (when all the fatties rock in for some greasy grub) I got fed up with a cocky 16 year old boy bossing me around and talking to me like I knew fuck all. I said so…except I got his age wrong by two years…oh poor him. He was less annoying after that. I did apologise if I came across the wrong way and that I was joking.

I hate people lately…they just piss me off…this doesn’t include supervisors at both jobs making me feel like a tool either or my mom’s friend Erica crying when I say something the wrong way, then Hev-Lady rubs it in.

Life is good. It just my attitude with is stupid! Therefore I think life is stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

THE END!

P.S. I bought Tony Harry Potter 6 computer game he nearly broke my ear drums when I told him the news. He seems to be one individual I don’t want to punch in the face lately.

God?

2010-03-31T20:02:00.001-07:00

I find this video insightful. :)

P.S. Today I lament not bringing a snack. I am very hungry….

More Rankin and thoughts Absurdism

2010-03-29T14:03:00.001-07:00

Ah yes Mondays the start of a new week!

I finally finished Fandom of the Operator by Robert Rankin. Ah yes I forgot to thank my friend Jo for introducing me to this bizarre author.

The thing with his books you must approach each story with an open mind and be prepared for outright randomness, like finding out 3/4 Fandom of the Operator, the main character Gary Charlton Cheese is a serial killer. The same main character who I admired for his in-depth look at life and death? Who I admit was a bit obsessed with his favourite author a total sociopath and has a knack for Voodoo. However, he is, but isn’t responsible for his horrifying crimes or behaviour? Like any book I have read by Rankin so far it all comes into perfect clarity at the end.

Anyways the meaning of this entry is to explain why I am leaning towards the philosophy of absurdism and its not because of reading Robert Rankin although part of it is. I was first introduced to the philosophy in uni my last year in Australia during the class called the Modern Novel. It was after I read The Outsider by Albert Camus where I had the moment, where one thinks that makes sense to me. Therefore, I became interested in the ideas of Theistic Existentialism and Absurdism, mostly the later.

If I stop and think about it, to me life is absurd! Especially if it has no meaning and the search for meaning (if there is none to begin with) is absurd. The very fact there is a people aware of there surroundings and the planet has to have a reason of some sort. People must have meaning to exist otherwise its absurd. Is this were religion comes in?

Having meaning in our life is not essential because it is absurd, that that’s not to say it can’t be meaningful. If the sole point of the world is to be aware of the Earth, life, live morally, create art, etc and there is no point to it then why? But the search for meaning although absurd in fact creates meaning in a sense.

We can never know if there is a life after death because no one has really come back and explained it all? Unless you’re Christian then of course Jesus rose from the dead and proved it.

The Earth could not just happen with the big bang theory. There had to be a big banger? But who is this big banger? The world in all its wonders and complexity could not just appear out of nowhere? There had to be an intelligent designer of some sort. But who is this designer? The whole search and theories of this is absurd because one can never know. They can speculate and maybe say they know, but really can they?

However it’s all these absurdities that help me to believe in God because without some sort of meaning life is absurd. Mind you believing in God is absurd because I can never know it completely unless I met the (Trinitarian) man upstairs and asked him the meaning of life. But what if it wasn’t what I expected and even God doesn’t know? Then it really would be absurd wouldn’t it?

P.S. I am off to see the Tony Man Features today!

Reading Robert Rankin

2010-03-22T20:50:00.001-07:00

Lately I’ve been reading Robert Rankin, who is ultimately in my mind the kind of author when I read his stuff my initial reaction is wtf? Rankin’s writing reminds me of techniques and ideas I have thought of and would like to try. He is bloody brilliant! So far I have read three of his books, The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse, The Toyminator and Nostradamus Ate My Hamster and I am now starting The Fandom of the Operator.

For instance, Nostradamus Ate My Hamster is a nonsensical book which finally has some clarification at the end. It follows Russell Nice, who works at a dead end job at a prop house for movies. When his friend Morgan tells him the story of Jim Pooley and John O’Mally and the disappearance of the Flying Swan a local pub in Brentford, Russell begins a mad quest to find it. Hence he is met with a former sex therapist/dancer/barmaid named Julie, Adolph Hitler’s appearance in the 1990’s via time travel, an insect devil like alien which who steals peoples time in order to live, the discovery of holographic machine called the Cyberstar which can make projections of real life stars, followed by the making of a movie using said machine to convert people to the insect devil guy and trying to save the world from a Nazi, robot like future.

For instance I wonder if one would question the sanctity of an author who makes Adolph Hitler one of the main antagonists in his work Nostradamus Ate My Hamster for humours sake. He is apparently brought to the 1990s via time travel and looks just like the pictures from the 1940s. Russell ‘who was called in existence to be the hero’ nearly has a heart attack when he seems him at the local pub the Bricklayers Arms in Brentford. (As any logical person would do.)

I must give full props to Rankin for his absurd imagination. At least I know that I am not the only one out there who can spiel off utter nonsense and make it into something engaging. His writing can be a bit redundant sometimes as he’ll go on a tangent about why something is such a way, (probably for humour’s sake?)I keep reading just to see what he will come up with next. His books are well worth the read. J

P.S. I am leaning towards the philosophy of Absurdism...

Me and Mormonism Part 1

2010-03-15T20:47:00.001-07:00

DISCLAIMER: Some readers may find this entry offensive so read at your own risk…I am pretty sure some people I know may find this blog via facebook as can be proven by the anonymous commenter. I also know there are others lurking about whom I’ve never met and could be offended by this. Please bear in mind this is my opinion.

Also take note due to the length of my experiences and ideas on this subject…this may be a multipart series…starting with my story as follows

This has been on my heart and mind for quite some time….The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints mostly known as Mormons and Christianity. Which of these experiences with religion is the ultimate obsolete objective truth? And if there such a truth. What is truth? If truth is subjective can it be objective? I’m still attempting this one so bear with me.

For the past couple of weeks I have researched Mormonism and today Seventh Day Adventists. It has opened my eyes to not what I think is true but what I know to be false. I’ll make this clear I don’t think I ever truly believed in Mormonism or understood what it was ever.

So today I have decided to write a formal resignation letter to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormons). I think I would feel much better spiritually if I do this . I’ve fully rejected Mormonism but I feel I need to do this. I’ve been doing some research into it and I found the template to write the letter, etc, but most of it deals with de-converting and becoming atheist or agnostic.

Firstly I should start off with my experience with in the Mormon religion and religion in general to show how I came to this prolific decision. I remember when I was young between 4 and 8 often attending Mormon church with my grandmother (my mom’s step mother my readers may have seen her referenced as Sue-Woman) and right around this time my mom converted to Seventh Day Adventist. Being a child I was inclined and somewhat expected to go with what the only adult role-model in my life at the time which was my mom and soon my step father who I have issues with and will never discuss publicly. I was raised both Seventh Day Adventist and some-what Mormon. This was the start of serious religious confusion because both have different beliefs on what it means to be a Christian. I was told what to believe and how to believe, but never asked to find out for myself till now. I even told others they had to believe too because I thought I was supposed too.

When I was 9 I lived with my brothers devout Seventh Day Adventist grandparents due to circumstances I don’t think it’s proper to write here, (for those who know me you may ask or I have already told you) Hence they (not the church they are affiliated with) had me terrified of the end of times prophesised in Revelations. I had nightmares about reincarnation and I was constantly told other religions and other denominations of Christianity were bad. I still remember my step grandmother’s library or anti-Mormon and anti Catholic literature. When I visited my grandmother (Sue-Woman) during this time period I yet again was forced to go to Mormon church except this time instead of daydreaming or not really paying attention to it I brought with me the distain and hate my step-grandparents taught me in just a short while. I kept thinking WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! Before I went back to live with my mom permanently I was considering baptism and reading over lessons for it, but it never happened. For this I am thankful because I won’t have to worry about my attachment to this as much.

When I was 13 during one of my visits to my grandmother (Sue-Woman) I was dragged to church. Except this time I listened on some level…I think this time I wanted to believe in something big then myself or wanting a sense of belonging. I expressed wanting to go to church to my grandmother who was thrilled. So when I came back home in September my aunty contacted some church members nearby who agreed to let me come with them to church. I was called an investigator and I was aware my mom was not pleased by this but strangely I didn’t care. In fact I was encouraged by the fellow members at my ward to bring my mom an inactive member back.

I don’t know if I believed in Mormonism. I never once properly read The Book of Mormon, except Sunday school. In fact Mormons often challenge new comers to pray with sincerity concerning the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon, citing a verse in its closing book:

"And when ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost" Moroni 10:4

I never ever, ever did that! NEVER! I couldn’t get past reading 1Nephi. I had no urge to read it. That should have been a sign to me right there.

Months after attending both church and church groups such as Young Women’s and functions I agreed to meet with Mormon Missionaries. Here is where it gets interesting. I met with two male missionaries called Elders, they usually come in twos, (like Noah’s Ark, Ned Flanders Ark too :P)

My brother was also in the hospital at this time for a leg injury, which I felt (still do a little bit, which I shouldn’t) responsible for. (He fell off a slide at a jungle gym.) I was having issues with my mother as well. I remember looking forward to the talks by the missionaries because it took my mind off the troubles at hand and the unneeded guilt I had. I considered it story telling and fact like. I remembered everything and I remembered the missionaries Elder Thompson and Elder Gaylord (yes that was his name) being really impressed when I could spout off the facts of the church, whether I believed it was another story. In fact this should have been a sign right here, one day they brought another Elder who would be taking over for another one and they discussed the three kingdoms of heaven and I of course I blabbered them all in perfect order, (Celestial, Telestial and Terrestrial ) but when I was asked which one I should strive for I jokingly said “It doesn’t matter!” I remember the look of pure shock on their faces. I quickly said Celestial because that’s the one all Mormons hope to go provided you did everything required of you in this life time, celestial marriage, good works, etc.

Then one day as I was off to the hospital to visit my brother and one of the Elders handed me a sheet saying when my baptism was. Instantly fear struck me. I wasn’t asked if I wanted too. I was too scared to say wait a minute or better yet NO! But sadly I decided to go along with it because I thought I had too if I wanted salvation.

Shortly before I was baptised about a day or two I was interviewed by an Elder who did not do the talks with me, which is a requirement to see if I was fit for baptism (I think), I found out from my grandma (Sue-Woman) I was supposed to be interview by a Sister (a female missionary) in fact I should have been taught by two Sisters. The missionaries who taught me explained to me I would be asked some very hard questions, but I did not know they would be questions such as….

Have you murdered anyone?

Have you had premarital sex?

Have you had sex with the same sex?

Apparently all your sins are washed away after baptism, so it wouldn’t matter, but they had too. I just remember these ones for some reason. I was 13 years old! Tough questions indeed! These questions haunted me for a long time!

I remember right to the moment before my baptism, that I did NOT want to do it, yet my aunty found me and prayed with me because that is their the answer to everything. I don’t even remember the exact date or anything. You think if I truly believed I would remember such an occasion. I felt horrible afterwards and that’s when the night terrors began….I know my mom could have helped stop this from happening as she had to sign a waiver saying I was allowed to get baptised. I don’t blame her for this at all. I thought I wanted too, she wanted me to be happy and this is a big one, my Mormon family members I am sure would have given her shit if she didn’t. I didn’t find out till about 5 year later she had serious reservations about this.

Anyways, not even year later after I was baptised I had to move to a different part of town. So facing the prospect of having to meet new people and my growing uncertainty with Mormonism I became inactive…of course after this I was found by the ward where I lived. Believe me they no how to find people who don’t want to be found, just read over my experience in Australia. This is one of the reasons I want to remove myself from membership. I want to be left in peace. I went to this ward once after that, but I was still somewhat included in Young Women’s group, went camping etc. Fun times? Yes and no.

I know I have renounced Mormonism 100 times over and asked God to not count it as a full on commitment but I still feel burdened by it and guilty for it. I keep telling myself I am on the right path now, but I need it in writing so I know I am no longer tied to them.

P.S. I made it my utmost duty to refrain from sarcasm due to the seriousness of this entry.

Off with the Oatmeal Cookies

2010-03-10T22:59:00.001-08:00

For the last few months I have developed a hobby for baking, mainly cookies and muffins. I am thinking of attempting scones, but never again cinnamon buns. (Those were a disaster!) Where do these delicious homemade junk food end up? In the stomachs of Hev-Lady, Tony, Pretty Blue Eyes, me, unsuspecting victims at church.

This is what the oatmeal cookie recipe is supposed to look like….

Oatmeal Cookies

Prep: 15 minutes, Bake 9 – 11 minutes per sheet. Makes about 3 dozen

2/3 cup granulated

2/3 cup packed brown sugar

1/2 cup butter or stick margarine softened.

1/2 cup shortening

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1 teaspoon vanilla

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 large eggs

3 cups quick-cooking or old fashioned oats

1 cup all purpose flour

1 cup raisins, chopped nuts or semisweet chocolate chips, if desired

Heat oven to 375 degrees
Beat all ingredients except oats, flour and raisins in large bowl with electric mixer on medium speed or mix with spoon. Stir in oats, flour and raisins.
Drop dough by rounded tablespoonfuls about 2 inches apart onto un-greased cookie sheet.
Bake 9 – 11 minutes until light brown. Immediately remove from cookie sheet to wire rack or plate.

End result: Betty Crocker cookies of the good little wifey variety. Mmmmmmm…..The kind a perfect pastor’s wife makes for Sunday and everyone loves. Yay!

This is what it looks like when you make it when you’re on mental vacation, half awake and off with the fairies in happy day dream land.

Oatmeal Cookies (Revised)

Prep: 20??? minutes, Bake 11 – 15 minutes per sheet. Makes about 4-5 dozen? I ate about half a dozen of raw dough…

2/3 cup granulated

1 cup packed brown sugar….wait that was 2/3 rights.

1/2 cup (and a bit) butter or stick margarine softened.

1/2 cup shortening

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1 teaspoon Soya sauce…I mean vanilla

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

2 large eggs

3 cups quick-cooking or old fashioned oats

1 cup oral care Actrium adult cat food, sorry all purpose flour.

1 cup raisins,

1 cup almonds

1 cup dried cranberries

1 cup of oatmeal crisp berry cereal (if desired, which I did not, but considered maybe next time?)

Heat oven to ummm 400 degrees no wait 375 degrees
Double check ingredients!
Beat all ingredients except oats, flour and raisins in large bowl with electric mixer on medium speed or mix with spoon. Stir in oats, flour and raisins
Double, double check ingredients.
Drop dough by rounded tablespoonfuls about 2 inches apart onto un-greased cookie sheet.
Bake 9 – 11 minutes until light brown. Immediately remove from cookie sheet to wire rack or plate.

End result: Something that looks like cookies! But did not rise properly and is a chewy and gooey looking in a good not so good sort of way. I think they are edible, they taste good…

NOTE: I noticed just before it was too late before adding Soya sauce and cat food. I was extremely close too! They are pity oatmeal cookies the ones people eat because they don’t want to hurt your feelings. I made them for Tony’s home visit tomorrow. He asked for cookies.

P.S. I have a bad habit of licking the spoons.

Who am I?

2010-03-07T01:11:00.001-08:00

It’s 12 a.m. I am tired, but my mind is full of thoughts. I thought I had it all figured out. And now I am debating whether or not I want to get up for church in a mere 8 hours and even bother in repetitive nature of a Sunday starting off with the usual morning start, eating, getting ready, arriving early, some mini enforced socialisation with the pastor, find my seat at the pew, sing, pray, offering (I’ve never once paid tithe :S), sing some more, children’s moment children leaving for Sunday School, scripture reading, sermon on reading, pray, sing, pray again, enforced socialisation a.k.a. coffee time, watch Manny drool all over Pretty Blue Eyes, eat some cookies, drink some coffee, more enforced socialisation, wait for ride home, arrive home pissed off for no apparent reason and ending with me hibernation in my sardine can of a room! It’s not that I don’t enjoy on some level it (although with the way I described it sounds like I entirely hate it). I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t pretend I am someone I am not. Where do I draw the lines?

It’s come to the point I’ve put Bible verses on my wall and now I wonder why they are there?

Sometimes I think I only started going to church because of Pretty Blue Eyes, Hev-Lady and the need for friends and socialisation. Once I decided to go to church the nagging stopped. Here is the irony, months after I begin fellowship at a church Hev-Lady decides that it’s OK for people to be Christian and not go at all. She happily says this and when I tell her this is what I was trying to explain to her all a long beforehand she just smirks and says sorry. WTF? Is she being serious or just throwing my old ideas in my face and mocking me?

Anyways if I suddenly decide to stop going to church again after sort of coming to terms with it, I am pretty sure I will come across as anti-social or in need of saving, etc, etc. Or be told the devil is pestering me again?

I don’t even know who I am anymore or even knew who I was to begin with. When will this identity and faith crisis end?

P.S. I am thinking I am depressed! As well as still wondering who the anonymous commenter is!

Irritation

2010-03-06T00:27:00.001-08:00

Let’s see if I can write about this frustration in an intelligent way!

I was reading a book from the church library called Hot Buttons (1986) by a variety of male Christian authors, (most of them pastors go figure) I was hoping for insight about issues pertaining to Christianity because it talked about some issues, such as abortion, death, sex and homosexuality I was wondering about. Not only did it enlighten me it irked me on so many levels.

For instance one of the contributing authors Eric Pement discusses abortion and actually says ‘if woman is unmarried, if she would follow the Bible’s instruction to ‘flee from sexual immorality’ (1Corninthians 6:18) and remained sexually pure most of the problems of unwanted pregnancy (and most reasons for abortion) would be solved,” (p. 98)

Mind you he attempts to absolve himself of the woman should be virgins before marriage card by saying that the man’s responsibility is ‘at least equal to women’s if not greater.”

I personally could never have one, but I still believe it’s a woman’s choice because it’s her body. It bothers me but I don’t think I have a right to tell someone what to do.

How about Don Williams who says “homosexuality should be viewed as a sickness like cancer or heart disease.” Hmmmm… However he doesn’t say homosexuals are not allowed to attend church or be Christian themselves but (heterosexual) Christians should not accept same-sex desire as “God’s best for them.” And how there is prayer therapy with psychologists which have a 100% cure rate. (More like a 100 % repression!)This stuff is really hard to stomach after doing a whole university course on this. I believe sexuality and gender are social constructs; the world is predominately heterosexual and so is the Bible (which is completely up for interpretation both good and bad.) I hope you can guess where I am going with this?

It’s not that I don’t believe in God or the Bible I just don’t believe some of the stuff being said by these authors. I am so entirely confused!

P.S. I saw Pretty Blue Eyes at work today!

10 things I did by 10 p.m. tonight!

2010-03-03T22:04:00.001-08:00

Can I write a blog entry in 10 minutes or less?

Yes I can! I shall share with you 10 things that happened today….

I got in a heated political, cultural societal discussion with a fellow bus passenger. She annoys me! You can tell she is highly intelligent mind you.
Learned my mom apparently has a bus-husband and therefore I have a step bus father! It’s hard to explain. His name is Mike by the way, no relation to the character I created.
Thought about the steps I need to take to publish my work.
Had a dastardly young man or adequate intelligence and appearance make flirty with me at work today. :) It took me a few minutes to realise it.
Anthropomorphisation is a word. It means to ascribe human characteristics to something not human. I have a platitude of anthropomorphised characters in my works. There is always a talking dog. Always!
I worked on my novel.
I fraternised with fellow co-workers. I like talking to them.
I am at Tim Hortons wasting time waiting for the entire bus as always! Stupid 11 – 7 shifts!
I partook in a free coffee from McDonalds. (Timmy’s is better!)
I got caught day dreaming by the new front end manager!

P.S. I am hell of a tired! I still haven’t figured out the anonymous commenter yet!

Who are you?

2010-03-01T22:26:00.001-08:00

Anonymous commenter! Who are you?! I am curious to who you are? No more hiding behind the mask of elusiveness! However, if you wish to remain as such I respect your decision.

So far I know you’re female, and a fellow co-worker. There is all the idea there may be more then one of you anonymous commenter’s as well.

So whoever you are, the curiosity is overwhelming. Thank you for the positive encouraging comments on my blog by the way. :) I might also add you’re good with words too.

Also in response to the why am I dumbing it down? I am making fun of the seriousness of the topic of religion because I find it hard to talk about given my strange religious upbringing. My step grandmother had me scared to death of the Devil and reincarnation!My family is constantly pressuring me to return to the fantasy of Mormonism…I have a friend who is concerned about my return to Christianity. I am even finding this change a bit challenging especially, the exclusivity of it all. I am not sure how to write about these issues in a non dumb way with out adding some sarcasm that makes it sound less smart because I must be afraid of sounding so. I am not even aware I am doing it if that makes sense? Humour is a deflector for something that makes me anxious to write about.

Not to mention I find the pharaoh from Exodus incredibly funny that I did knowingly dumb down, but seriously the Pharaoh was dumb…how many terrible plagues came to Egypt before he finally let Gods people go? A hell of a lot! So I find some Bible stories satirical…

P.S. I am sick! Oh and Canada did amazingly awesome at the Olympics!

Religion and imagination

2010-02-26T20:56:00.001-08:00

Is it possible to have an overactive imagination at 25? Or is it a writer thing?! I, out of morbid curiosity I decided to Google some of some other religions which were on a checklist of non-spiritual Christian religions in which you were supposed to renounce in a special book a friendly old woman lady at my church gave me to read.

The following were searched out of my inquisitiveness

Bloody Mary: I thought it was the cocktail…apparently not. I am assuming it was referring to the old folklore or urban legend about Mary Worthington. Apparently if you stand in the dark facing a mirror sometimes with a lit candle and chant her name three times (or more depending on the version of the story) her ghost comes through the mirror and A: claws your eyes out and kills you or B: takes you with her into the mirror never to be seen again. Some speculate its Satan himself coming for your soul! Not that I’d be insane enough to even try it, (and those who would?) but for some reason it freaked me out and I happen to have a mirror in my curio-cabinet in my room as well as another mirror like object. Therefore I had to convince myself with much trepidation to turn the light off in my room. I knew it wasn’t real, but my over reactive imagination thought it would be funny to try and scare me! It’s the first time in four years I was semi-afraid of the dark. I had to tell myself that Mary wasn’t going to swoop down from the mirror in my room and kill me!

The Forum (EST): I honestly have no idea what it is. It’s some sort of self help thing where you’re basically harassed into joining? It’s about receiving enhanced power and enlightenment, etc, Bob Anon kind of explains it. The story is from a Christian point of view (which may or may not be the best example), but it shows what basically happens. I am not really sure what it is?

Unification Church (Moonies): There known for all there mass weddings… which I It started in Seoul South Korea. It kind of reminded me of how the story how the Mormon religion started…Joseph Smith is visited by some spirit called Moroni which results in the Church of Jesus Christ of Later Day Saints. Sun Myung Moon said he was visted by Jesus and tada new religion! Except his followers think he is the Messiah and is fulling the Second coming. I am not going to judge as I do not know much about this religion, but it does say in the Bible:

¹Dear friends, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world. 1 John 4:1 (NIV)

I only add this for logic’s sense. Or maybe it just shows how the Bible is interpreted? Mormonism was on the list too. Does this mean I am spiritually damaged? The friendly old woman lady encouraged me to renounce it, which I did! It was redundant because I did it a long time ago after I realise I was tricked into it as a 13 year old girl before this book was handed to me. If anyone in my family reads this I will probably be doubly disowned now! Oh wells!

P.S. Apparently if you look into a mirror in a well lit room and say Nigel Bottington 3 hundred times he will appear in the mirror and turn you gay. Gay!

P.S. Fizzy Lemonade!

2010-02-17T22:45:00.001-08:00

Yesterday I had success I finally finished 3 chapters of Fizzy Lemonade and (dare I say it), I like it more then Song of the Superheroes. It has more prose to it, more complications and it still has some of the predecessor’s roots, but its starting to explore more post-modern concepts and ideas about language brought on by some literary classes and ideas in my last year of university. I find I appreciate the post-structural and post-modern, absurd- fiction kind of ideas and I realised I kind of write my stories that way. In fact I think I could go back and fix Song of the Superheroes because I am learning more by writing its sequel. I actually do have to read over it now and then so the new story doesn’t contradict or I repeat and idea, however given the way I am starting to write this one I could make up a reason for its inconsistencies.

P.S. Wild Will

So far it starts much like Superheroes started the plot was rather scattered and random, but it was going in some sort of direction. The tenses were mixed up, although not as bad, maybe lacking description here and there. I tend to write my stories in present tense for some reason. I write how I see it in my head if that makes any sense.

P.S. Wild Will rocks

When I read some of my favourite authors I feel rather discouraged because for starters I really envy their talent and I in my lack of confidence think I am no writer, but I have to remind myself that I am on some level, but not the same writer as them, which is a good thing.

P.S. Wild Will rocks my socks

One of the ideas I am exploring is religion too. It’s gradually becoming one of the elements of it as well as language. In my story the main religion is Fictionalism, where certain characters are aware they are fictional and no one can understand why they believe what they do. Wild Will is their prophet, (believe me he is aware of being fictional). It is kind of making fun of certain religions, I won’t say which and I won’t go into to much details in case no one has read it yet. I don’t want to spoil it all. Wild Will would not be very happy. Ha ha just kidding!

P.S. Wild Will rocks my socks in Bangkok

I kind of feel maybe I was too open about my beliefs the last two entries or so, but more concerning was I felt ashamed to state it yesterday when I talked about my cats. I wanted to write “not to be religiously cheesy” but I decided not too. I should be ashamed of my faith because faith is different then religion at least that’s what I think.

P.S. Wild Will rocks my socks in Bangkok whilst Alberticus and I drink Fizzy Lemonade!

The pastor at my church (The Pastinator) has an hour long discussion with me in areas of spiritual growth, the main reason for my visit was to inquire about baptism. Apparently, which I find interesting in the Baptist faith is you don’t have to be baptised to be saved, where as in Mormonism you had to be.

P.S. Wild Will rocks my socks in Bangkok whilst Alberticus and I drink Fizzy Lemonade and Sarah Evans drinks herbal tea!

Charley the Scardy Cat

2010-02-16T00:09:00.001-08:00

Well my cat Charley whom I’ve had for five months suddenly went missing! I was in hysterics. I couldn’t find him for at least 4 hours. I seriously looked every where for him, cupboards, beds, and the shop. Every so often I’d go out on the porch and call him several times the only answer was the wind blowing in the trees. I even took the dogs for a walk around the block to look for him. My anxiety quickened.

His brother Chazzey kept asking to go out more then usual and he kept meandering back and forth from the wood shed. I in ignorance took no notice of this. As it started to get dark around 6pm I really started to worry. When suddenly Hev-Lady saw Chazzey beeline for the wood shed one last time at rocket speed. I went to go see what he was on about. I called Charley’s name and heard a faint scared mewing. I then noticed serious decay in the shop the floor boards were rotting and Charley managed to somehow get stuck inside and was too scared to come back out. If it wasn’t for Chazzey I may never have found him. I was worried about him so I placed food and water to try and lour him out. Chazzey kept darting in and out after this. It was as if he was telling his brother how to get out and making sure he was OK.

Finally Charley came to the door and mewed for me to let him in. I was so relieved I practically ran for the door and picked him up overjoyed that he wasn’t maimed or catnapped. If it is one thing I learnt about this love and intelligence exists in the animal kingdom after witnessing Chazzey’s repeated concern and his way of communicating to me where his brother was. Most importantly I believed God helped too. He answered my prayers of concern for my little animal, one of his precious creatures.

I have since covered up the rotten floor boards with wood in hopes this won’t happen again either.

P.S. Sydney also helped! By chasing Charley outside in the first place!

Perfecting Your Craft

2010-02-15T15:11:00.001-08:00

Happy belated Valentines Day!

I am relieved Valentines is over. I don’t ever think I liked the holiday. I appreciate what it represents and the value of love, but shouldn’t be something you show all year round.

Lately I’ve had the good fortune of connecting from the Internet from home, which is probably why my blog has been updated more consistently. (However having a laptop and an Internet stick does come in handy.) Or maybe I just feel the need to write! I was reading an old journal from 2005 and I wrote how I hadn’t been journaling much because perhaps I didn’t really feel the need for it or perhaps I was depressed, which could be true because when I am down, my writing goes with it as does any passion in my heart.

When I read something I wrote years ago I reflect on home much in a span of 8 years how much I have changed.

Today Hev-Lady is preparing for her gardening expeditions of the summer, her favourite time of year. She says she feels guilty about gardening whilst I am slaving away doing dishes…She says it’s work, but she loves it so much that’s why she constantly guilt trips herself. So I asked her about writing if that was work and she looked at me all shocked and said.

“I thought that was a hobby?”

So I replied:

“What if I am trying to work on a novel?”

Her response:

“I guess so?”

Also if you’re a writer shouldn’t you constantly work on you’re craft to perfect it like she does gardening?

P.S. I hope Canada wins some gold medals this year at the Olympics! GO CANADA!

Trying to Hard…

2010-02-13T20:45:00.001-08:00

Since it’s the eve of Valentines Day I am reminded of what I don’t have.

He is the only one I see. I made the mistake of telling him I liked him and giving him my heart without asking if he even wanted it, now I can’t seem to get it back! I desperately want to ask him to be my Valentine, but I know it would be in vain.

Is it right for me to think right now that girls who try to hard to get guys attention deserve to be shot for their innate desperation? Maybe its time for me to show I care but in a more covert less intrusive way, like for instance being myself! Complimenting him on things I admire about him.

I swear if I ever marry the guy I’d be like a pit-bull. I’d even go after little old pregnant old lady man wives with a stick saying “stay away from him he is mine!” Funny though I never imagined myself as the possessive type. This is why I am afraid of liking charming relatively handsome men and being lucky enough to have one all to myself. I think I would always worry why is someone so handsome with me? (Lack of self confidence obviously) And then there’d be all the other women who like him, so I feel like I’d be constantly keeping an eye on him. He’d be walking down the street and I’d be hiding behind some large tree with binoculars just to make sure there are no female threats near him or I’d carry pepper spray to fend of female admirers. I might as well just pee on his leg to mark my territory.

There you have it folks I am on the brink of insanity.

P.S. I’m not the only one to try the old wives tale of the way to a man’s heart is stomach. It’s bunk it doesn’t work. It only makes them fatter!

Who is the adversary?

2010-02-11T21:52:00.001-08:00

You know I don’t think I am cut out for this whole Christianity thing. You’d never meet a real Christian making fun of the Bible even if it is the Pharaoh Poo Head from Exodus. If I tell someone close to me like Hev-Lady or another friend from an older generation I am struggling with my faith it’s either

A: You’ve haven’t fully accepted Christ as your saviour that he died for my sins and rose from the grave and so on and so forth.

Believe it or not is no problem…I believe. Enough said! I just have trouble with all the dogma and doctrine involved sometimes. And how Christian faith can be skewed and manipulated to meet certain people agendas. That I do have a problem with!

B: It’s the Devil! (If its Sue-Woman or my devout Mormon Aunty it’s the…Adversary! Oooooh makes it sound all science fictiony!)

This one I kind of want to focus on a bit…Satan seems to be a scapegoat for a hell of lot things. When really isn’t it the fact people are sinners? I wonder though seeing as he is blamed for pretty much everything including original sin, wouldn’t you be pretty pissed off or perhaps his ego goes up a notch? People seriously give him too much credit! Not that I doubt he means harm to people either. Apparently depression and anxiety are spiritual and the devil is behind it. I do believe there is some spiritual warfare to an extent but some of it could be physical, psychological or caused by repressed emotional injuries and incidents in ones life as well. I seriously feel like bursting into laughter every time Hev-Lady says the reason for any problems, whether they are hers or another’s immediately indicate it’s the Devil.

I’ve always felt some force behind my anxiety. Stupid things can start to send me to the point close to hysterics. The point where I start unravelling and I can feel myself and my sanity being swallowed whole, into a dark hole, but I know for one thing I am not alone and it’s a number of contributing factors.

Anxiety is like how shyness used to over come me when I was younger, but now instead of a big scary monster taunting me it’s a catastrophic fire breathing, fear gripping monster who instead of yanking me away from human contact is grabbing me by the throat and holding me down and when I capsize into uncontrollable emotions points and laughs at me to the point I figure I am better off dead. I feel so depressed and disconnected after an anxiety attack I just want to crawl in a small space and never come out. I am slowly starting to learn to beat Mr. Anxiety Monster with a stick.

Suddenly I feel like I am coming out of the shadows of darkness and walking towards the light, but I still have a long ways to go yet, but I am getting there. It’s writing that sustains me, the pen that is my grace. It’s my way of dealing with my emotions. I sometimes wonder if anyone read my personal journal what they would think. I reckon a lot of people I know and have known through out my eight years of journaling would be mighty pissed off or incredibly surprised. I find I can say so much more when writing rather then speaking if that makes any sense. It’s weird how I attribute writing to my welfare, but not God.

Also I think it’s ironic after going to church for a few months Hev-Lady finally says you can be Christian and not go to church, to which I replied. That’s what I was trying to friggen tell you all those months ago. Now because I gave in and went to church I am on a different path, it’s a good path but I’m not so sure I like it completely or ready for it. I often wonder if it is the charismatic, handsome and charming Pretty Blue Eyes who convinced me to stay even more! Did I go to stop the nagging and please my mom? So I can make googly eyes at Pretty Blue Eyes and his amazing use of words? I doubt it, but then again I still wonder.

P.S. Pretty Blue Eyes, Pretty Blue Eyes, Pretty Blue Eyes, Pretty Blue Eyes!

An Exodus Towards Apology

2010-02-10T21:00:00.001-08:00

Oh dear unidentified responder who are you? The commenter who leaves such nice well written responses to my rambly entries? I’ve racked my brain thinking of who you may be as you claim to be a fellow co-worker. Come out of the shadows of anonymity! I’ll be nice I promise.

Is it blasphemous to find particular chapters of the Bible amusing? There is just something about Exodus Chapter 5 I find hilarious.

Exodus 5:1 – 4 (New International Version)

¹ Afterward Moses and Aaron went to Pharaoh and said, "This is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: 'Let my people go, so that they may hold a festival to me in the desert.' "

² Pharaoh said, "Who is the LORD, that I should obey him and let Israel go? I do not know the LORD and I will not let Israel go."

³ Then they said, "The God of the Hebrews has met with us. Now let us take a three-day journey into the desert to offer sacrifices to the LORD our God, or he may strike us with plagues or with the sword."

⁴ But the king of Egypt said, "Moses and Aaron, why are you taking the people away from their labor? Get back to your work!" ⁵ Then Pharaoh said, "Look, the people of the land are now numerous, and you are stopping them from working."

My idea…. For some reason I keep imagining the Pharaoh to be some snotty bastard. And when this was read out just before the Pastor’s sermon at church I suddenly imagined this…. In fact I suddenly consumed by giggles….

Moses: (visiting Pharaoh) The Lord, the God of Israel says, ‘Let my people go, so they may hold a festival to me in the desert.’

Pharaoh: (Mocking tone) ‘Let my people go…so they can have a festival for me in the desert. I don’t know this Lord of yours why should I listen, therefore I will not let Israel go.

Moses: You’re just saying that because God hardened your heart aren’t you?

Pharaoh: If this God has done this then it is true, now GO AWAY I HATE YOU!

Moses: But, but, but...the God of the Hebrews has met with us, so let us go into the desert for 3 days to offer sacrifices to him or he may strike us with the plagues or the sword.

Pharaoh: (Again with the mocking tone) ‘The God of the Hebrews has met with us, so let us go into the desert for 3 days to offer sacrifices to him or he may strike us with the plagues or the sword.’ That’s the biggest bunch of baloney I’ve heard in my entire life. Moses, Aaron, why are taking these people from their labour! Get back to work you’re all lazy!

Of course after this Pharaoh decides to up the douchebaggery by deciding the Hebrew’s are to gather their own straw to make bricks and to make the same quota as before and when they can’t do this they are beaten. So obviously they are a little downtrodden and extra pissed off with Moses. So logically they complain to who they see has brought on this extra dose of misery upon them. Then when Moses goes to God and asks why, God is all like it’s because I am all powerful and because of my powerfulness Pharaoh will see how mighty I am, etc. I think the whole point of the sermon was it has to get worse so God can show you how amazingly powerful he is.

So now that I am on the topic of religion. I made a fool of myself on Jo’s blog, (spelling errors included). In which I am apologising for. Here is what I said (spelling errors corrected)

Jo,

This is solely my opinion but, I've been reading a lot of your entries pertaining to Christianity and to be honest I find a lot of your views biased and over generalised. You need proof as well as personal experience. You shouldn't criticise things you don't truly understand.

Also (still my opinion) God and religion are too separate things. Religion specifically Christianity is a man made institution which is merely a vehicle to reach God and to please him. A relationship with God and truly believing in him and having faith with or without church to me is entirely different. I believe the Bible is written by God and man and has been reinterpreted many times by man to suit there understanding and unfortunately to suit there own goals and belief systems which I agree with you can lead to abuse. I also agree it’s a very patriarchal based religion, but so are many others. I prefer to think of the Bible as a collection of stories and history and it’s from this we can learn. It can't be taken in the same context as today because it is an entirely different culture then now. However, you must remember not all Christians are bad or think they are holier then thou, it's a stereotype. And maybe when people who get come to faith lose contact with friends is because they have troubles reconnecting with those who haven't or have disconnected entirely.

I prefer to say I am a secular Christian and I will always be your friend no matter what, whether you're Christian or not. Given your experience some of your opinions are valid, but some are not.

For some Christianity gives people hope and meaning in life. No one can "interrupt there joyful ignorance," because they truly believe.

Maybe I should elaborate on the things I said, but I fear I’d make things worse….

I won’t apologise for my beliefs (which I am starting to question again, grrr…) But I will apologise for doing something I thought I’d never do…which is forcing my beliefs down someone’s throat especially when religion is a touchy subject with them to begin with. I think I was just feeling defensive because the Christianity I’ve experienced now is nothing how she describes it even the positive descriptions. That’s what I met by validity. The Christianity, I have experienced for 20+ years, varies from positive, conservative to strange and no where similar. I kind of forgot that when I made the comment. So now I’ve made it seem like I am invading her personal space. So I hope she will accept my apology.

P.S. I get make hangy-outy with Pretty Blue Eyes on Friday!

What am I waiting for?

2010-02-07T20:32:00.000-08:00

(Two posts in one day! This is an entire first. AN ENTIRE FIRST! )

I’ve decided to try and re-do my resolution from 2009 to attempt to write 100 entries by the end of the year.

Would it be a logical assumption that being impatient and being a Christian don’t mix for some people? There is a lot of waiting involved being a Christian, whether it is waiting for marriage to get it on with someone, asking God for answers or the second coming.

I am specifically wondering about the topic of virginity. Let’s say a Christian who believes in the importance of waiting till marriage meets and falls in love someone new to the faith who has participated in worldly things such as premarital sex. How would he/she feel about it? Would they feel a bit cheated? They saved themselves and suppressed a very human instinct for the sake of their beliefs, but then again wouldn’t it be a bit petty to judge a future love of your life for sins which were already forgiven by God. I also don’t believe being baptised makes you a virgin again. You’re washed clean of your sins in that regard, but physically… If one keeps bringing this up they obviously haven’t forgiven themselves.

And why does Christianity have some many rules?Some based on denominations, interpretations or beliefs? Also is it really an issue of salvation? It’s just this questioning type behaviour that has gotten me in trouble with other Christians. I prefer to refer to myself as a secular Christian an oxymoron entirely, but apparently you are or you aren’t. Things were easier when I considered myself agnostic borderline deist.

P.S. Tony man features will be totally stoked when he finds out I installed Harry Potter Quidditch on my computer!

When debt is the Monopoly?

2010-02-07T19:20:00.001-08:00

I’m surprised I am not pulling all my hair out from my financial situation seeing as I am very close to it. Loan payments for my government loans are missed, rent money and the all the anxiety the entails this, I still owe gas money, etc to my friends from the trip to Edmonton. Which makes it even more stressful was some of the money lent to me was by friends who are financially troubled as well. It reminds me of playing Monopoly with Carol for some reason. I miss Carol L

Carol: (Lands on an expensive property worth $1100+) you know I am good for it!

Me: Ha! You can pay me in instalments?

Or….

Me: (at the height of winning the game!) It’s OK I’ll let it pass this time…

A half hour or so later the tables have turned….which is usually how it works with Monopoly.

Me: Carol you know I am good for it!

Carol: Suck it up! Pay now! Ha ha!

Me: I’ll give you a property! (This leads to me being even more screwed!)

Carol: OK….I WANT THE MONEY! (She is kidding of course!)

Me: Carol stop trying to rip me off! (shakes fist in anger)

Hence to say Carol usually ends up wining… oddly she always owns the red properties. That’s Kentucky, Illinois and Indiana or Trafalgar, Fleet Street and The Strand if you happen to own the British version of Monopoly, which I do. :P Then of course she owns Park Place (Park Lane) and Boardwalk (Mayfair). I always seem to own the bright purples and the oranges….Actually I make a point to own those ones for some reason, which is weird because they aren’t much more then the shitty light blue ones and the dark purples (dark red if you have the British version).

Anyways I digress…enough about Monopoly.

It’s hard not to feel anxious when your friend Moses (not his real name) says I better pay the gas money or he’ll break my legs or kidnap my dogs and send him to me in pieces. Thank God he is joking. Perhaps it’s important to have a sense of humour about the situation! Also perhaps being thankful! I have a roof over my head, I have food to eat and friends to make hangy-outey with. There are others worse off then me.

I am so concerned about my financial predicament and the need to do something about it that I sucked up my pride and my reservations about returning to the fast food industry and applied at A&W. It was something someone said to me this morning. Who cares about the job one has, as long as you’re pulling your weight and trying to get through life and it pays the bills. So I might come home smelling like a burger at least I can pay my student loans off!!! I swear I am aware of my financial conundrums but I try to forget about it and pretend it doesn’t exist and wish it away, bad idea…. Enough said.

Edmonton Love

2010-02-02T14:06:00.001-08:00

When you fall in love with some one, you can temporarily put the feelings on a shelf, but you can easily take it down if the love is returned or like me in irrational clumsiness knock it down and open up the heart to the beauty of the feelings whether they are returned or not. Knocking down the feelings off the shelf in the back of my mind isn’t a bad thing, it reminds that I am human and an emotional feeling being and there is no shame in having them. Anger reminds you that you are alive and love keeps you there. Emotions are what make the world go round.

I still love someone but that doesn’t mean I can’t be near them and bask in there wonderfulness that I like about them and it doesn’t mean I can’t show them either. If nothing happens then all is not lost. I’ve gained an amazing friend even if I do want to punch them in the face every once in a while.

My trip to Edmonton went well. It was spiritually insightful and reviving. Some may say it might be joyful ignorance but once you experience it, you know and those who never had or are against it will never understand. I had this unmistakable high and so much love in my heart I just wanted to hug everyone so they could feel as happy as I did. For the first time I felt connected to God. Besides religion is something man made to reach or to please God, a relationship is something entirely different and I wonder if some people don’t distinguish between the two of them. I also believe it’s good to see both the Christian world and the secular world so you can see both sides and come to a decision on which truth or belief speaks to you.

I even successfully over came my fear of crowds by Sunday it didn’t even phase me. I finally felt normal for a change; despite the fact I think word normal is a culturally subjective and this word should not be a in our language. THE END!

P.S. I believe in God and all that entails!

The labels attached

2010-01-26T21:46:00.001-08:00

I wonder is last entry crossed the line? In fact I think my statuses on Facebook sometimes are risqué. Maybe I am just more open book then I should be.

Hev- Lady drives me crazy. On Wednesday I had plans to make hangy-outy (another made up word. :P) with some friends from church at 7 p.m. But mom got groceries and assumed I was staying home all by myself while she was at choir, therefore I would be home when the groceries came at 7:30. I had no idea I had to share all my plans with my mom. Now at first I was really annoyed, by my friend Hat-Guy ran into me downtown and when I told him he offered to pick me up afterwards. Yay! And upon deeper reflection I realised I was going to be eating the groceries and Hev-Lady had bought some of them for my up coming trip (More on that later). So it was a win, win.

Anyways Hev-Lady has her moments, but her heart is usually in the right place and even though her passion is misdirected. Unfortunately her passion comes through in her temper and that is really the only issue I have.

Tomorrow I leave for Edmonton for 5 days! Woot! I am going to Breakforth. The thoughts of big crowds and concerts scare the crap out of me, but I was reading in a book somewhere the best way to defeat anxiety is to face what you fear and that way it doesn’t come back again. Supposedly… still doesn’t explain why I had a crippling fear of the dark before going to Australia and instantaneously the night I arrived my sudden fear of the dark is gone. This was a fear that was so irrational I remember fighting with my grandma to leave the light on in a motel room and when she didn’t I ended up covering my head with the sheet and cried myself to sleep. It has been erased from my list of bizarre phobias. Like black toilet seats in public washrooms… I digress, I don’t see how traveling overseas conquers a completely unrelated fear. So hopefully overcoming my apparent mild case of agoraphobia is the main reason, which even more oddly appeared when I got back from Australia. Then of course there is spiritual growth it is a Christian conference after all. People get a weird look when I tell them where I am going.

Me: Yay I am going to Edmonton for five days!

Random person I am inflicting my ramblings on: Oh wow what are going for a small vacation?

Me: Oh no just a conference with some friends

Random person: Oh what kind?

Me: Breakforth it’s a Christian conference. I am taking most of the classes with writing.

Random Person: Oh…

Me: I am also going to conquer my fear of crowds.

This is followed by a strange look and awkward silence. It seems there’s a label attached to ones faith.

I wonder why is there something taboo about going to Christian events? Is being a Christian something to be pertained as awkward? Do perhaps they think of me differently now as the truth of my spiritual (rather then religious) activities are revealed? I consider myself a Christian in a sense and I believe in God. So what? I am who I am and I believe what I believe, that’s the beauty of living in a country with many freedoms I know I sadly take for granted.

So due to my inadequacy to properly save. I am going with only $30 it should be fascinating. I went to Sydney with hardly any money my second trip and I managed to get by.

Life is dandy for now…THE END

P.S. How long do I have to fall down this skyscraper called life until I grow wings and fly away unscathed before I make a big splat on the cold hard reality of the pavement below?

Rambling towards forgiveness!

2010-01-18T21:10:00.000-08:00

I just don’t feel like writing in my blog lately… I mean I want to write, but my drive is lacking. I write at least every day sometimes 4 times a week in my journal, but internet is lacking and well ummmm I don’t really want to share everything.

Kind of like how I don’t want to share the hot chocolate I am drinking at Timmies right now. You can perhaps have the paper cup once I am finished but the inner contents are mine, mine, mine.

Well I could say I am pissed off at someone I thought was a good friend, not only does he give me the silent treatment most of the time lately, but I tried to tell him about how I am struggling with Hev-Lady type problems mainly her scary temper and head games because I thought he might offer some advice and he point blankly didn’t believe me. He said I was just putting my mother in a negative light and implying it’s important to honour your parent’s type vibe. How do you honour someone who emotionally, mentally and physically abused me when I was young? How do you honour a father you’ve never met? I think the more important question to ask is how to do you forgive? How do I forgive my mother even after she’s said sorry to me hundreds of times and how do I forgive my father for not wanting to know me and abandoning me before I was even out of the womb?

He said my comments where damaging and I should take a look in the mirror, etc, etc. So what if I said God stuck me with my mother for a reason and he was probably upstairs laughing at me because I put myself in the same situation despite the constant warnings from people who care about me, especially Sue-Woman. I am feeling angry, confused and helpless about the situation I have wittingly stuck myself in. I wasn’t implying it was in a negative sense. I then told him how she only shows the Hev-Lady she wants people to see, but of course according to him a lot of people are like that. Well I like to think I am genuine and the Melissa everyone sees is the same no matter what. I try to blend in between the different hats I wear, but my mother might as well wear a paper bag on her head and call it a hat. Blah. I love my mother or else I wouldn’t attempt to put up with her, try to forgive her for past offences and seek advice. But no apparently my lack of love is not a question because I wouldn’t be living with her if I didn’t because most girls my age are living on their own doing their own thing…rah, rah! So now I am not normal like other 25 year olds and either I am just being a compulsive liar looking for attention or Hev-Lady is a hell of a good actress. Yes I put my spin on it, but I swear to God I am not lying. I am just telling it as I see it and he would rather criticise me instead.

I ask my other friends, they at least offer ear to listen and basically tell me the same thing “Get out of there!!!” Or if it gets really bad have a bag ready and go to a shelter. I am not looking for sympathy. I just want to talk to someone about it, so I can process it and try to fix the situation. Maybe if I told him the Mean Mommy nightmares were returning or how when she is angry she is not my mom anymore. How about when I have an anxiety attack she gets mad at me because it annoys her and embarrasses her? Grrrrr!!!! I told my mom how she is treating me, anything I say to friends I say to her. I made it a rule. He probably just doesn’t understand because he had both parents and they appeared relatively stable.

So I was worried maybe I said too many negative things about my mom and I apologised to her for maybe saying things I shouldn’t have and I wasn’t aware of it. I asked my other church friends one said she’s never heard me say a bad thing about her and another said I am genuine enough to explain what’s happening and how I am having a rough time dealing with my mother because she is overbearing.

So my first entry of the New Year is 18 days late and it’s all rambly. And it is biased I won’t deny it. I am having troubles with my mother and this is my perception of it. Take it or leave it! It appears that 2010 will be the year I learn how to forgive and that is the only resolution I have.

P.S. In case I forgot Happy New Year!

2009: a retrospective look

2009-12-30T21:22:00.000-08:00

In less then 2 days 2009 will finally be at an end. I really meant to write more this month but for some reason it was the season for madness. People buying presents with money they don’t have for people who probably don’t deserve it or just want to impress. I was mentally drained for the last three weeks and it’s only now that I am recovering on some level. I am doing OK. I am just going on with life as usual.

So what will 2010 bring besides double digits, the Vancouver Winter Olympics, and another birthday? Will there be more astronomically stupid infatuations on extremely good looking arrogant men who do deserve my affections. Continuing on with Wal-Mart, more writing? Most likely.

So far the five Ws of 2009 (in no particular order of importance)

Wal-Mart
Wondering
Waiting
Wanting
Wasting time

(Perhaps there should be a willing somewhere on the list because none of it really sounds positive.)

2009 has been better then 2008. For starters its more stable. I am not moving country to country town to town. I’ve finally had a steady job for over a year. I am safe but stuck and I am stuck because I am safe.

This pretty much sums up what I think of the year. Therefore, I hereby present 2009 in retrospect…Some major events include.

Pretty Blue Eyes…. I won’t even waste anymore words on this…

Moving out to the boonies in July, during a heat wave no less, it was not pleasant.

My on going battle of personal issues….

Almost burning the new house down…its kind of strange story.

Acquiring two new kitties cats into the family. Charley and Chazy. (It used to be Chaz)

Going to Bible study (Small Group) and constantly whinging how I don’t fit in, etc, etc. Reading about Ezekiel was pretty cool though.

Going back to church…I still haven’t figured that one out yet. It started because Hev-Lady will stop bugging me to go.

My brother going into permanent care. I will be a year the end of February.

My sudden desire to start collecting dolls. It’s kind of creepy.

Learning to sew. I swear mom’s sewing machine is a hungry monster that eats fabric…but anyways.

My poodle skirt! I made it especially for Halloween. I was stupid and didn’t take pictures.

STAR TREK! Although I was somewhat divided on how the director changed things with the whole alternate universe thing. I seriously waited all year to see it.

Star Trek –Lady, part of the new system at work. The new express lane tills, just in time of the Christmas rush. She is this love disembodied voice who tells customers where to go (the register to which they must pay), literally and in a nice way too via the pressing of a lovely silver button. She sounds like the Star Trek computer in Star Trek Next Generation hence Star Trek –Lady. Not to mention the registers make me feel like I am operating 1/6th of a giant space ship. It’s kind of like a mega cashier with one line up. The new system works ok if it’s busy, but its crap when it’s slow. For starters Till 1 gets all the customers. And no one pays attention to Star Trek-Lady. Oh and its self bagging…that really pissed customers off for the first month or so.

I’ve begun reading a lot of books. I’ve read 28 from recollection it might be more… I’ve only just got back into it.

Having a job interview at a newspaper was beyond cool, but sadly it wasn’t meant to be. I shall endeavour to try again in coming year. I talked to a reporter from the local paper who goes to my church and she said it didn’t matter if they were advertising for a position. I might as well get my name in. So there!

It’s been my first full year back in Canada, but I still feel like I got on the plane from Australia yesterday. 2009 was a year of progress in some areas and regression in others. It also went by way to fast.

So in the word of my dear brother… “HAPPY NEW YOU!”

P.S. More Fizzy Lemonade shall be served in the New Year.

The on going saga and Acorna

2009-11-19T09:57:00.001-08:00

Urgh I had an entry all written out 2 weeks ago almost but now it’s outdated so its redundant to publish it. But I will anyways….

A big happy birthday goes out to Tony. He is 18 but for some reason seems to think he is 49.

Me: Happy Birthday Tony!

Tony: Thank you Happy Birthday Me

Me: You’re welcome Tony. How old are you today?

Tony: 49

Me: I thought you were 94.

Tony: No 49

Me: How old am I then?
Tony: 12

Me: Well you’re nearly half right.

In other news Pretty Blue Eyes apparently has a girlfriend, who is not officially his girlfriend but potentially a girlfriend in other words he is most likely taken. Now I can take a big sigh of relief knowing now what he meant by “at this time” bull shit. So all along it was a gentle let down and not the door ajar leaving room for possibilities, confusing the hell out of me. The initial rejection was a mixed message. It still would have been better to at least close the door or slam it in my face so the obsessive person that is mean wouldn’t be wondering about it for 7 months. I just realised what a waste of my entire life this was. MY ENTIRE LIFE! Not telling him how I feel but brooding about it for so long afterwards. I am glad I am able to love, but I wish it was directed at the right guy for once…

P.S. were still friends…Now that I know the above information it makes it easier to be friends.

With Wild Will :P (Well I am!)

P.S.S. I am kind of annoyed about it. I feel like I was lied too for some reason, by him and myself. Why did I fool myself into thinking it was a just a temporary thing? Was I imagining things when he kept sending the mixed signals of all confusingness.

Showing up at my house at 11 at night mysteriously looking for churches in town and introducing me to his parents, yet now that I’ve gotten to know him he seems to think the world revolves around him. He showed up around quarter to 12 at night at my house a month or so later, claiming he was in the neighbourhood playing poker at a friend’s a claim that was later confirmed.

Then there were the mysterious glances for no reason, well to be fair I was looking at him and he was probably just catching me looking at him all along. Well he is really handsome.

Or how about it seeming he was finding excuses to call me?

Singing my name on the phone

Teasing me…

Then the last few days he got really distant from me…now I know why! He sounded really nervous and awkward the last few times too.

(Perhaps it has to do with Wild Will rocking my socks?)

In fact earlier before I managed to get over the initial shock of finding this out and seeing his very elegant friend of his, and not being formally introduced either. I never even heard her name. I found out by listening in on other youths conversations. Hmmph! She looks like one of the models from the Sears catalogue. I went into hours of pure angry madness. I was mad at him. I was mad at myself, etc… I, as always was reading into things far too much. I have all these mixed emotions of anger, embarrassment, shame and hurt and I am not sure how to place them or to deal with them properly.

So now I am officially and determined to meet the real deal! If only I wasn’t so impatient, shy around guys or for some dumb reason pining for Pretty Blue Eyes maybe I’d have found him by now. Perhaps it’s Big Red from work. He has pretty red hair as well as pretty eyes…and he is really tall. He reminds me of Wild Will’s side kick John and he always reads books like me. He seems like a real NERD nerdy retarded weird guy. I’ll start with trying to make friends with him. I just hope he is not too young for me. Really tall people for some reason look older then they are, it would be just my luck if was 18 or something, because another really tall guy I found endearing at work was. :S

P.S.S.S. I thought right other tall guy is 18.

P.S.S.S.S.... Mom wants me to buy cat food.

A is or Acorna. I am nearly done reading Acorna the Unicorn girl series by Anne McCaffery co-writing with 2 authors. The first two with Margret Ball and the rest with Elizabeth Anne Scarborough. Sometimes it is boring and lame, sometimes it is adventurous, overtly technically with the technology and well I still like it. I once joked to Hev-Lady how perhaps I should acquire or own Linyaari (a unicorn person) to heal her. It’s pretty cool actually the Linyaari are a gentle telepathic race with the ability to heal, and purify water and air, just like a unicorn.

I was reading Acorna’s Quest the second book in seven book series and my friend Matthew saw it whilst we were having lunch at Subway.

Matthew: Oh she has a horn on her head. That is hot

Me: Well of course it’s a phallic symbol

Matthew: You’re a phallic symbol.

Me: I lack any of the components to be a phallic symbol.

Obviously Acorna portrays the best of both worlds, she is female and she has a phallus on her head, she is exotic looking with the silver hair and fair skin. Somehow I think the character caters to men’s masculinity or there hidden sexual desires. There is some bestiality undertones as well with her being part equine and all. The ancestral hosts who saved the unicorns from Earth and through genetic splicing created the Linyaari desired the unicorns in that way. Of course this is purely my own opinion. If you read the first book it kind of explains why I think this....

I think it was a few months later...

Matthew: You’re still reading that book?!

Me: No its book five Acorna’s World.

Matthew: Oh...

Me: I still remember you telling me how you think she is hot and the you called me a phallic symbol.

Matthew: (Laughs)

Anyways....I am on the last book out of seven.

Acorna the unicorn girl

Acorna’s Quest

Acorna’s People

Acorna’s World

Acorna’s Search

Acorna’s Rebels

Acorna’s Trimuph.

Acorna. Acorna, Acorna. Acorna, Acorna. Acorna, Acorna. Acorna, Acorna. Acorna, Acorna. Acorna,

Then I find out there is three more in a spin off series called Acorna’s Children... Blah!

P.S.S.S.S....I have to work....

Brains, Brains, Brains

2009-11-03T21:57:00.001-08:00

Anyways, I desperately want something happy and witty to write about, but nothing comes to mind...Unless you count weird dreams.

Panic attacks I don’t exactly feel comfortable talking about this particular subject unless it happens to be close friends...in fact I don’t even know why I am writing about it now. Figures....

The resurfacing of amorous type feelings I thought were long buried. It’s true I haven’t gotten over Pretty Blue Eyes, which sometimes have a speck of green in the pale pretty blueness of his pupils. I am not sure if anything will ever happen, but even if it doesn’t I think I have a special place in my heart for him.

I was considering going to the church tonight for a prayer meeting, but I was already a half an hour late, because of work so I thought it was kind of a faux pas to show up late to such a function, even though the idea of meeting up with Pretty Blue Eyes was enticing. I didn’t want to interrupt. As I was walking to my destination (I figured I’d decide by the time I get there.) my imagination wandered into a random garbled day dream.

Me: Sorry I’m late!

Matthew: That’s OK

Random Church member: It’s nice of you to come.

Another random church member: Yes Melissa come and join us.

Me: (apprehensively as it is my style) Ummm OK....

Matthew: You don’t seem to sure.

Five or six more parishioners show up

Group: Come join us.

They all start reaching for me randomly. I start to feel rather uncomfortable.

Group: BRAINS! Braaaaaaaaiiiiiiinnnnnns!

Me: Ahhhhaahahahhahaha!

Group: Brains! Brains! Brains! Brains! Brains!

The all eat me the end.

Yep that is the gist of my day dream, pretty weird huh? I guess if I did a dream analysis here and applied to it the day dream I’d say I’m worried they’d be pissed off for me showing up late and figuratively eat me alive, (logically I know this is not true). They probably would be happy to see me but I walked past the room and they were all reverent and bowed down in prayer. I don’t know about you but it is awkward when you walk in on people praying and ummm it’s distracting especially since they group is trying to talk to God. I imagine big guy upstairs ready to smite me because he is listening to something they have to say that is important, but I interrupt them. Therefore I am at Timmies now drinking apple cinnamon tea and randomly musing all by myself and I am clearly overtly irrational as well.

I finally got in contact with Erica. Thankfully Hev-Lady and she have worked things out. Unfortunately she won’t be allowed to move in anymore. That bridge was burned down way into the fiery pits of no return once her neighbours (not her caregivers) decided to bully her into staying where she is. And I will not be going anywhere near her house again not unless I have a harpoon gun ready just in case The Whale decides to surface again.

However her cat Ozzy is still living at my house. Meanwhile, being an entire snob, eating the kitten’s food (rather than his own) and generally picking on them. He pretty much hides out unless he has to go to the bathroom or eat. He is pretty talented on giving out passive aggressive go away I hate you vibes.

My new kitty Charley is finally warming up to me. He is this tiny little thing with a crooked tail. Sydney tolerates him. I am pretty sure Charley is the only cat Sydney hasn’t tried to hump, Ozzy being his recent conquest. But Charley hasn’t been exempt from humping his brother Chaz, Hev-Lady’s cat demeaned him. Poor Charley enough said.

Nigel Bottington has had a lot to say on this matter:

Dog loves cat: Sames sex, different species has friends confused

An editorial:

By Nigel Bottington Co- Editor in Chief

Bamboozle Times Chronicle Herald

Dear Readers,

As an advocate for homosexuals, being one myself I find no revulsion with same sex relations, in fact I encourage them because Freud himself said humans where innately bisexual. Yet there must be a line drawn when the same relationship crosses into another species altogether. One adorably cute male Shi Tzu- Terrier Alberticus Sidonious- McGlonagick barely a year old may seem the epitome of sweetness, but not once you realise he has a sordid relationship with one Chadwick McGlonagick a male orange tabby kitten. You read right an entire kitten of the feline variety. Not to mention technically related though adoption. Most of the time its accepted Cats and dogs are odds with one another, but never are they in love with one another or in fact pursuing a relationship. This is even worse than automosexualty, the sexual relation with cars or bestiality better known as zoosexuality, such as the relationship between a certain big brown dog and his dastardly ultra feminine wife. (I cannot name names now for fear of libellous implications, no thanks to Sarah Evans!) I am not even sure what to label Alberticus as! He is a somethingsexual? I will supply one at a later day.

That is all I have to say on this matter. It makes me so angry I might poo myself. It’s even more upsetting then finding out that I have to share this new paper with Adrianne Lawrence, who likes to be called Mrs. Amazing Marlon Brando Woman and refers to me as Skinny or Bean Pole and when she is in a rather exceptional mood Nasty Little Gay Man.

I have also been informed there is a whaling expedition in the Suburb of Walkerton where a rather large whale with legs (obviously a person) of the manipulative bitch array from the community of Wankervile is causing problems for the community’s residents. People of the trailer trash variety are a stain on this fine city of Bamboozle and I fully support there expedition as soon I can find my harpoon gun. Mostly because I heard she doesn’t like me for calling her a whale and telling to mind her own business and if she doesn’t like me hanging out with her boyfriend because I am gay. GAY! This whale doesn’t happen to be Philis Philmore either, who is also a whale, but I calls her Fatty Bumstockings instead. (I have sore knees to prove this.)

Nigel Bottington Co-Editor in Chief

Today’s outings are as follows.

Whale McDouche bag

Fatty Bumstockings

Philip Tate

Finbarpurpleton Fergarious

Alberticus McGlonagick

As you may have noticed by the randomosity of this this entry and probably many more is the product of many 3 hour waits for the bus after work. In fact its cumulative entry from the past three weeks. I once tried about year ago to remedy this but with no avail. I kind of like the 3 hours to myself after work before I get home. I get time to unwind after a busy day before I get home. I find I am not as crabby as if I catch the bus 20 minutes after. I am tired yes, but it’s become part of my routine. If it were summer and it weren’t so bloody dark out I’d attempt to walk home.

P.S. Following directions for cinnamon buns is kind of important. They were all doey and umm gross.

It's been a strange week.

2009-10-17T15:28:00.000-07:00

So the special needs friend Erica whom I was under the impression was semi-moving in to take care of her cat was in fact permanently moving in, which means that I may or may not needed to move out as well.

Therefore, I live in the Ned Flanders version of Noah’s Ark two of each animal (cat and dog) but both males so there won’t be any hanky-panky. And for an added twist there is an extra cat also male. Not to mention my dog Sydney is somewhat sexually confused. He kept trying to hump my mom’s kitten Chaz and he has for some reason been giving favours to Charley by licking his balls and he likes to chase Ozzy (The new cat and pet of my friend). Both kittens and the cat now avoid him...I wonder why. If this were Bamboozle I could see the news headlines now.

Sexually Confused Shi Tzu – Terrier Ousted From Home For Unsavoury Relations With Cats.

Or

Dog loves cat: Sames sex, different species has friends confused

However, to be more confusing last night my friend changes her mind as she was bullied into staying where she is now by her neighbours, leaving Hev-Lady looking like the bad guy when all she was trying to do was help. Now my mother feels defeated, thinking evil has won, telling me this as her eyes were full of tears. She was and still is truly heartbroken. This friend is like a sister to her. Yes she should have asked me first if it was OK, but her intentions were honourable. How would you feel if a whale of a woman intent on picking a fight shows up whilst you are helping your friend who is ecstatic about the move and accuses you of saying not so nice things behind her back which you never did as your daughter witnessed you several times saying we should not be talking about this person and then proceed to see your friend coerced into changing her mind, distraught in thick sobbing tears.

Then if that wasn’t bad enough the previously mentioned whale’s mother comes over to defend her precious calf and accuses you of causing trouble? The mother whale of all scariness mistook me for Hev-Lady and was attempting to tear into me and was intent on walking in on my mother whilst she was in the bathroom doing personal like business. I tried sending GO AWAY I HATE YOU vibes but I guess they weren’t strong enough to reach four people of the trailer trash variety. Where was Japan or a decent harpoon gun when Hev-Lady and I needed one? By that I mean the power to defend our friend not sent out into the black dark streets in shame, having witnessed a very surreal Jerry Springer moment. (Trust me these people could totally be on that show). Now I am unsure if I am still moving out as Hev-Lady has no roommate and temporarily stuck with her smelly cat, but I am more concerned for my friend and am now left with the shame of feeling resentful while she was temporarily with us. I don’t even know if I will see Erica again. :( I just pray she can make a decision based on what she wants to do not what the other people or my mom wants.

P.S. I am almost done Chapter 6 of Fizzy Lemonade.

Uncomfortable at 25

2009-10-08T21:06:00.000-07:00

So apparently being a quarter of a century is important... For my 25th I volunteered at the local food bank. I got some books and some cake. It was pretty low key. I could have gone to Alberta to hang out with Carol but I had very little money for a ticket because procrastination and indecision had caused me to possibly pay for a dastardly bus ticket worth $400. Being poor sucks just as much! I was consumed by indecision on whether I was going to see Carol for my birthday. I lost out in the end, but then again I didn’t.

I am feeling very uncomfortable as of late.

Firstly I am not too sure about being 25! What happened to being 24?

Secondly, a family friend who is special needs is suddenly semi-moving in our house. It’s not my fault she ignored the no pets rule and will be evicted if she doesn’t get rid of her cat. So now our already animal zoo filled house has an extra cat. I wasn’t even consulted I am living in a roommate situation and I would have appreciated it if I was at least asked. This person smells bad on top of that so now, not only does it smell like dog and cat, it also smells like BO. I feel out of control of the situation and it’s irritating. I feel mean for whinging about it on my blog.
Then this person, who is 50, has a BIG crush on the pastor of my church who is 27. She reminds me of myself and my silly girly crushes. (Ugh I apologise to anyone I put through that.) It makes me uncomfortable on so many levels. She has this hopefully joy that something could happen, but the chance of which is slim and she seems to think I like him too. I do but not that way. And even if I did I would hopefully be intelligent and rational enough to figure out that it’s not meant to be. I wish I had this insight for my recent infatuation with Pretty Blue Eyes. I must of and perhaps still do drive my mom and friends to the point of obscurity. I’m not sure how to explain to her that it is kind of inappropriate to say how she has to be friends and not his playmate, etc. It just irks me out and irritates me and I can’t figure out why. Maybe it’s because she is 50? Maybe it’s because she is not very attractive? But that sounds kind of mean. Perhaps it’s a learning experience on some level. So I know how annoying and awkward my behaviours towards others and perhaps inappropriate.

Despite the Bible study groups members assuring me that I am fitting in and they do like me. I still feel like I don’t. It shocked me when one of them said they were my friends. Friends to me especially lately is a pretty heavy concept. I’ve felt alone for so long since I’ve been back to Canada that to think that I found friends is kind of mind boggling. They are not like best friends that I can tell all my secrets too, I don’t trust them quite yet, but I guess they are still the same. I think they accept me as the shy quiet one so they don’t know if I am unhappy with the situation at hand. I am so quiet they don’t notice I am there and I mistakenly took that as they don’t care because they do.

Anyways the point of this entry is to announce that Chapter 5 after 6 – 7 month delay is finally up and ready to read. I am working on Chapter 6...

P.S. I am a ninja!

What to write about? That is the question!

2009-09-30T19:01:00.001-07:00

This age old question still haunts me since the day I decided I wanted to be a writer.

What do I want to write about?

It’s usually subconscious but it start as soon as my fingers grace the keyboard of my computer or the pen I am holding begins to scribble the many scrambled thoughts and ideas that cluttered within. Some days, like today I do think to myself now what is it that I want to write?

When I stop and think about it, is when I just write until the idea that I meant to have comes pouring out from the very depths of my soul. For instance I was just randomly free writing and journaling and I suddenly thought how strange some new friends I’ve become acquainted with slowly. I’m not going to say who or where I know them...(anonymity reasons of course) They claim to be Christian but proudly announce how they drink, party, smoke and participate in certain activities which go against the morals you would normally associate with Christianity. So would this in fact make them hypocrites or perhaps contradictory. I’m not judging them or anything I just find it strange. Humanity is strange structures and boxes where suppose to fit into are so engrained in us, that to merely survive some sort of societal structure or label is needed to understand anything in life. Even language! So if you attach the label of Christian (because I definitely think it is one) but the label doesn’t match, then what?

I also think it’s interesting how another Christian friend has this image of God as kindly old man like Santa Claus or Albus Dummbledore and after reading the Old Testament in the Bible particularly in Ezekiel where God kills Ezekiel’s wife as part of a prophecy and proceeded to tell him how he wasn’t allowed to mourn. This is of course added to the other things God demanded of him, which by today’s standards is pretty obscene. It’s because of this her whole image was shattered and she became irate with another group member about it. Boo hoo! God can be mean, yet there is usually a purpose for it.

This reminds me of a conversation I had with Matthew ages ago. He was teasing a fellow Bible study member and I said he was mean and he replied so God is mean.

I don’t get it if God is supposedly perfect then why the temper tantrums which are seemingly imperfect. (I am meandering the line of sacrilege and am imagining God with a lightning bolt to strike me dead for asking the questions I do.) He also created humans? But why? Devoted Christians says it’s part of his plan, but what is his plan exactly?

Me I have no set image of God. He is kind of like this big invisible force everywhere at once. I know he is out there, powerful, temperamental and with a very strange sense of humour. I also don’t blame him for being cranky from time to time either, despite the fact that crankiness is also imperfect.

Gah my brain hurts from thinking too much! Anyways....

P.S. Chaz scratched my fingers up. Ah the joy of kitties.

15 minutes of love solitude or sandwiches?

2009-09-22T20:53:00.000-07:00

A question has been brought to me as of late. Almost 2 weeks ago.

I was enjoying my 15 minute break on a Thursday when my friend Matthew called and asked me how I was, ect...I reply along the lines of I am enjoying my 15 minutes of solitude as being around people all day is mentally draining. (Believe me it is!)

Matthew: What if it was a prince and you could only see him 15 minutes a day and he would be completely devoted too you. He would love you like no other, but you could only have him for 15 minutes? And in this time you fulfill any needs you may have...(No need to imply what he means by that :P) And then after the 15 minutes are up he turns into a frog.
Me: Me that would suck! I would want someone like that for more than 15 minutes. What if there was a magic spell to stop the cycle from continuing?
Matthew: No! It doesn't work like that you either have one or the other.
Me: Well then I would choose solitude!
Matthew: OK but he'd bestow his love upon you and only you, etc...
Me: Urgh....Yes I get it!

Of course a week later I change my mind reasoning that if it was true love might as well have it even though its for 15 minutes a day. He said he'd choose solitude because it would impeed on his freedom because he likes being single.

So the next day I added a twist... Matthew hearts Julia Roberts, particualarily when she was Tinkerbell when she was normal sized and wearing the pretty blue dress.

Me: What if you could have princess for 15 minutes a day and it was Julia Roberts. Would you still choose solitude?
Matthew: Absolutely
Me: But its Julia Roberts! And its only 15 minutes a day!
Matthew: Exactly, it would impeed on my freedom because I'd be missing her the rest of the day.

Oh brother! The old cliche comes to mind. A life without love is no life at all. Or how about? Its better to have love then lost to have never loved at all. I hate cliches so I apologise for writing them down. Why would someone choose lonliness? I guess because you can't get hurt and you get to be your own person and what not, but still.

Anyways, I aided Matthew in getting a meatball sandwich from Subway to which he said was just as good as having Julia Roberts for 15 minutes a day. What an interesting contradiction?
So I responded along the same lines...you see I also got a sandwich for my mom but I gave her the wrong half and sent her on her way back home only to find out I got the wrong sandwich. I ended up getting a hold of Hev-Lady and she managed to get the next bus back just to switch them around because my sandwich was just not up to par with her standards. She had a club with cheddar cheese no sauce I had a club with white cheese and honey mustard dressing. She hates dressing perfering it natural. I like dressing enough said. Anways after mom and I sucessfully switched sandwiches (Matthew apparently found the whole ordeal hillarious!) I sent him a message that said.

Me: I finally ate my sandwich it was as good as having Simon Baker (The guy from the Mentalist) for 15 minutes a day....
Matthew: Ha ha!
Me: Of course you are handsomer than Simon I'd rather spend 15 minutes a day with you!
Me thinking: Oh dear God I don't think that was apropriate to send too a church pastor! Hev-Lady agrees...:S
Me: Just kidding by the way! (I was hoping to soften the blow)
Matthew: I wasn't!
Me thinking: Oh God! Aghghghghghghghg!
Me: Wasn't what?
Matthew: Joking! But actually I was!
Me thinking: OK...I can breathe now
Matthew: I agree I am handsomer than Simon.
Me thinking: Conceeded are we?
Me: Indeed! (Because he really is!)

So I wonder dear readers which would you choose?

A: Handsome Princess/Beautiful Princess who will be the epitome of true love

Or...

B: Solitude, lonliness or freedom

Anyways.... If you think this conversation is weird perhaps the one about oranges would be of interest. But that is for another time...In fact I dreamt that Matthew came to help get my mom and I to church with only 9 minutes to till the service started and mom and I had to pay him in oranges and a balecava.

Oh yes I am also happy to announce there are two more members to my family. My mom and I are outnumbered by animals 4 to 1. Two kittens, both cute and orange, both brothers, named Charley and Chaz.

P.S. This entry was written at the library. I couldn't think of anything snarky or cryptic to ummm add.

Weird dreams and a broken heart

2009-09-17T18:02:00.001-07:00

I honestly have no idea what to write about…..

Well it appears that my weird dreams have resurfaced, from stress no doubt.

Let see it involves Wal-Mart, Philis Philmore, making cakes, the Anti- Christ, speaking in tongues, God yelling at me about something, Carol, pretty flowers and Dolly Parton escaping bad guys on an inflatable raft. Told you it was weird.

Perhaps the weirdest part was waiting in a big line up to speak with Jesus in the flesh and then watch him and Carol have an entire conversation in tongues. I honestly had no idea what they were saying, but Carol was very happy. Then He talked to me in which we both spoke in tongues and he said I had to much darkness inside of me and that’s all I remember. Then as Carol and I finish our visit I run into Jesus again, except he looks different and he laments how I have forsaken him because it turns out that the Jesus we were talking to was the Anti-Christ. Then of course I wake up in the dream and God comes to me and talks to me again and so on and so forth. Not supposed to go into details because apparently the conversation is private, but I am allowed to tell my friend Matthew about it for some reason. Hmmmm…I mean I better do what God tells me even if it was a dream because he has this thing for inflicting wrath, especially if you read the Old Testament. But then again the God in the New Testament seems nicer…

The whole Dolly Parton and cake thing were completely separate dreams. Dolly falls onto raft and says “oh boy lucky there was a raft there to save me.” The bad guy fell into the water, turns out it was sewage and Ms Parton was on a search for flowers for her pretty little home which was built on the water. And then the cake dream I got mad at my stepmother for helping me finish a cake without asking. Meanwhile attending church and thinking the pastor was a joke. To which my older sister was in love with him she asked my brother (not my real life one) “what’s with guys and there mixed messages?” because the pastor had rejected her and broke her entire heart. To which he replied he was responsible to answer that because he wasn’t a guy but really was. Then I had a younger sister who apparently had a thing for hiding under the kitchen table. She was destroying with the aforementioned cake to despite stepmother who was actually quite nice and didn‘t deserve the animosity. Note: I don’t actually have a sister or a stepmother but I do know a pastor. Oh yes and I had red hair and was really tall that part was cool.

I have also decided its maybe it is more then time to let Pretty Blue Eyes go! I got a little obsessed and jumped the gun and put his pretty picture in my Amy locket. I thought maybe it would bring good luck. It did the opposite I was always worried the locket would pop open and he’d see that I had put his picture there. Today I finally removed the picture and what do you know the anxiety went a way. I will save the empty space for someone who feels the same way. THE END! One problem I still entirely like him! Grrrr….

Why is the heart so irrational? When it all started I had notice or detection of time. It all came to a standstill. It was just me, him and the constant beating of my heart and the subsequent ache that was impressed upon my heart from the pain of unrequited love. Why would anyone want to put themselves through that? It feels so beautiful at first then once the slap in the face and sudden appearance of reality unfolds it hurts like hell. Why should I desire someone or something that I cannot have? Why lust over a moment that I may never share. To love someone who does not love you back is hard. Your brain knows its illogical and nothing may ever come of it. Yet the heart is indifferent. It doesn’t seem to care. To have emotions is part of being human. I see his cute crooked grin and it all unwinds from there. Once again I am picking at the scab. It’s almost healed but not quite. I know everyone says there is other fish in the sea, but he seems to be the only one I see. I think someone needs to hand me a fishing rod.

P.S. It is ummmm raining!

I've Bean whinging again!

2009-09-03T18:26:00.000-07:00

Well I successfully have a nice shinny new mobile Internet Rocket Stick from Rogers it even matches my pretty red computer. To bad it only works if I am downtown or perhaps half way down the street! There be no reception out here. I tried meandering aimlessly around my house trying to pick up a least a bar of service but NOTHING! I even tried threatening said Rogers Mobile Rocket Stick by pretending to eat it. I had a bar for two seconds and when I tried to connect it failed miserably. What a waste of money and I am potentially stuck with it for two years! Gah! So obviously this entry strangely enough is being published by way of my shinny new computer as well as painstakingly typed on it. I hate it too the keyboard is all different and I can’t seem to type on it properly. I miss femputer she new how to work properly for me. She is now six feet under dead. What a stupid idea leasing a brand new computer! The fellow dedicated readers (who never respond anymore I might add) can thank Hev-Lady for it is the use of her computer that you are able to read about my ranting and ravings about the inability to use my new fancy wireless internet stick. I am sounding like a pregnant old lady woman whinging about new technology and how terribly horrible it is.

So seeing that my mobile Internet stick hates Copper Mountain, I have decided to go with the plan of bringing my computer downtown where I can use it at my leisure. If you can’t beat them, join them. I am currently at the community garden with Hev-Lady where she is currently picking beans. Monster beans! Then there are her gigantic zucchinis and numerous onions, tomatoes and marigolds. Her garden plot is like a mosaic amongst the perfectly ordered and designed gardens neighbouring it.

Surrounded by plants and the wind is relaxing. It’s when I am in places like this that I become very reflective. For starters why do I even bother trying to be friends with some people. They are either too stuck up, cliquey or too plain serious to even understand me. If they think feigning interest in me is going to get them brownie points with God, they forget that I am smart enough to know they are just being nice because they think they have too or want to appear to be nice moral do-gooders. I don’t want sympathy friends. I want real friends. I am just fed up! I go through all this trouble at work to change my availability at work and then they decided that Wednesdays don’t work for them it has to be Thursdays now. And then they are like it oh the only person it doesn’t work for is Melissa. It shouldn’t be a problem to change it at work. Uh yes it will be. I really don’t think my front end manager is going to appreciate me constantly changing my availability when perhaps a month or two down the road they decide that perhaps Tuesday or Friday is better for them. I understand it had to be changed because one new member who only started coming three times now has choir and another one has other responsibilities, but I’ve come to nearly every study since the beginning. Not to mention if another member can’t make it, its call cancelled just for them, but if I can’t make it too bad so sad. It’s not fair. Some members can even bring their little kids along to disrupt everything. But its oh so cute to have a little kid banging on the windows and whacking you with beaded necklaces and other random objects. Thank you very much. Great now I sound like I am entirely selfish. I should just speak up and tell them how annoyed I am with them. Instead of being passive aggressive and ignoring everyone after the study is finished and either withdrawal completely or read a book. I should study the Bible on my own from now on. Or maybe make my own Bible study with Erica who wants to learn too. I’m sick of being in the background. I don’t want to be a beta female anymore. I really should just tell people how frustrated I am instead of whinging on my blog for the whole world to see.

I wish I would stop worrying what people think. In between writing this I frequently bitched to poor Hev-Lady who is often the victim of my ramblings. I’m pretty sure she figuratively wishes to slap me to snap me back to reality instead of spiralling into darkness of irritability, self doubt and frustration.

I am also sick of Pretty Blue Eyes and his mixed messages. Enough said. I am also sick of the moronic girls going all googly eyed and gooey over him, but that’s just he jealousy speaking. Sam-Lady says I should just tell Pretty Blue Eyes to his face that I like him instead of some letter. I think its entirely redundant seeing as he already made it clear friendship is all he can offer at this time. “At this time.” I wish I could forget those three words and stop analysing and wondering what they meant. It would have been so much easier if it was a rejection to slam the entire door in my face instead of just a gentle let down. Breaking my heart was already inevitable, would have made more sense to me if he was just clear about it instead of softening the blow.

P.S. Where oh where has Joan gone?

The I almost missed the dog on bus!

2009-08-18T00:12:00.000-07:00

OK so I finally got my new Dell computer delivered courtesy of Purolator. Yay! It is beautiful all shiny and red. It will take some getting used too as it is a new computer. It runs so much better then my old one circa 2002 which I have been reminded constantly that it is ancient in computer years. By the time the financing for this computer is done it will be past it expiry date too! I promise to take good care of it. I really do. My writing seems so foreign on the new one though. Not to mention it won’t let me modify any old Microsoft Word documents because it says they are locked so I am forced to use Microsoft Works which I think is the same thing.

So I almost missed the bus this morning. I was on my way to meet Erica for coffee, but the stupid dogs would not go outside for me. They just stared at me blankly with a look of pure guilt. It took at least 10 minutes...
Me: Come on boys, outside. (Meanwhile it s 20 past 10 and the bus comes in four minutes.)
Dogs: (Stare blankly at me) You want us to what?
Me: Come on boys outside.
Dogs: No understand human language
Me: Come on boys outside. I will give you treats. (I am starting to get into a panic about missing the bus.)
Dogs: Don't you dare try to bribe us! (Sydney hides under the chair in the living room and Weiser decides to wait paitently by the front door thinking perhaps I will take them for a walk instead.)
Weiser: I'm ready!
Sydney: If I hide well enough perhaps you won't leave me! DON'T LEAVE ME MELISSA!
Me: (Runs back to room and grabs a gourmet dog treat and then nearly breaks tooth trying to break it in half and attempts to give one to dogs.)
Dogs: (Both Feign interest)
Sydney: Oh sure give me the smaller half. I am not moving!
Weiser: (Sniffs) Whats this?
Me: Gets fed up grabs Sydney and places him under my arm like a football then proceeds to grab Weiser by his collar and force them outside. I shove Weiser and lightly toss Sydney. He makes a light plunk on the wooden deck.
Dogs: (Run back in! Sydney runs and hides under the chair. Weiser stops and looks at me waging his little stubby tale.)
Me: (Ready to pull hair out.)
Dogs: We are not going outside therefore you're staying.
Me: (Panics) I am going to miss the entire bus! (Now for round two! I successfully get them outside.)
Dogs: Give me a despondent look of pure abandonment.
Me: (Runs and just barely makes the bus.)

This just proves dogs are smarter then they let on...

I should be in bed but I really wanted to write something before I went to bed. I'll have a more thought provoking entry soon I promise!

P.S. I really hope I get to see Carol in September!

Internal Awkwardness

2009-08-14T20:39:00.000-07:00

I was pondering on something my friend told me the other day. How I am not making anyone feel awkward only myself. It's true perhaps thats why people don't know how to respond to me because I give off I am awkward and standoffish vibe and I really don't intend too.

I am slowly making new friends but the Christian youth I have met up with on several occasions are nice to me, they don't seem to hate talking to me, but they don't get me and I wonder if its because I make really strange jokes or say little Melissaisms they don't quite understand yet. It's like I am standing in front of a thick glass wall. I can see them and they can see me but no matter how hard I try to break it down it either vibrates or merely cracks and splinters. It never shatters I am not able to cross over and show them the real me and I am not sure if its because I think they don't want me to show them yet so therefore I wont because I am making myself feel this way and because of it they haven't gotten to know me. Matthew gets me I've found a large enough crack in the glass wall to connect to him, and then there is the odd friend at work but thats about it. My close friends worth holding on too are far away. I still pine for all of them.

Some who really know me know that I tend to make rather sarcastic or strange whimsical comments. I think I make it pretty obvious that I am not serious. My church friends Elizabeth and Heather (Not Hev-Lady) take me seriously and when I say I was only joking they still don't believe me! It's entirely frustrating. For instance we were out fishing with Matthew well keeping him company whilst he attempted to catch fish but sadly failed. He said we'd be back at my house by 8:30 a.m. There was a 5 am wake up call and Hev-Lady was deeply concerned that I was invited out to come fishing when I was suppose to be helping with moving. In fact she was pretty irate about it because I didn't ask her if I could go I TOLD her I was going and I made the effort to give her a time frame so she knew that I would uphold my responsibilities to help. However, it was at least 9 am and I wasn't concerned as I was enjoying myself.

Me: I am going to make Matthew apologize to my mom for bringing me home late.
Elizabeth: What! That is so mean. That's so terrible!
Heather: (Scowls at me)
Me: I was joking...:P

I digress this has happened on more then one occasion. Then there is the voice in my head that says Hev-Lady doesn't want me to have friends and some of her behaviours would confirm it. When Carol was visiting in February she was mean as and she gets all cranky or asks to come along when my new friends when they go to the lake and so on and so forth. I think some of the youth don't know how to deal with me because my mom tends to stick to me like glue and I do enjoy her company. She can be a pretty fun lady to spend time with but I want to have a social life separate from her and I don't think she understands that.
So anyways I think all of this awkwardness and thinking that I am not being able to have friends or that I am not worthy of them is entirely internal yet I try to find an external source when none exists. Perhaps it comes down to self confidence.

P.S. I hate working the express lane!

My study of the Bible

2009-08-13T19:26:00.000-07:00

Again my computer time may not come around again. I am borrowing moms new computer whilst she sleeps. Don't worry I asked permission. :P

I don't want to mock the Bible, but I have been thinking about it a lot recently having going back to church and slowly getting in touch with my faith and such.

So I went to Bible study and we've been learning about the Old Testament prophet Ezekiel. It's weird I am finding theology interesting in the context that it was written in a different culture with a completely different understanding of the world and now the culture I am part of now is entirely different. Its fascinating how some of the moral's back then have transcended to my generation, yet they are fragmented and are being questioned. So if it was written thousands of years ago would it could it not be up for interpretation and maybe with all the different translations of the Bible seeing as part was written in Hebrew and Greek human error could come into play, language barriers could arise. If one has tried to translate on Babel Fish on the Internet you'd find that the words don't match up and it doesn't make any sense. So if one has to translate a book a holy book for that matter one has to rearrange it in a way that does and hopes that it stays true to God and the authors intent.

To think if I was alive hundreds of years go I'd be a heretic. Now its just frowned upon because I guess I am not supposed to be questioning this kind of stuff....but I still find it fascinating. I believe it happened. There is archaeological proof! I have issues with the patriarchal stuff and perhaps the suppression of human desires which I think is entirely natural. Like I said previously I am way to open minded to be a full on Christian. I believe, yet I am an unbeliever I have faith but I lack faith at the same time. My constant desire to find the absolute truth or proof hinders my spiritual growth. To me to have blind faith is scary. Sometimes you have to see to believe or at least feel it. I don't understand why God would want mindless idiots wouldn't he want his people to think outside the box. Mind you I had a dream where I questioned God and he got pretty pissed off! So maybe not. Why can't I believe in God and still question the world he apparently made? In six days no less! I really find that hard to believe. I am not a creationist nor an evolutionist, but I tend to understand it better if I combine the two together. Perhaps one day for use is thousands of years for God or perhaps the days were metaphorical for geological ages? To me its like writing the story. What is mere moments for a character is forever for the author because sometimes it takes days just to write one scene or at least think of one. Perhaps life is just one big story? But back to my original ramblings...

I'll be even more sacrilegious and say that I find the book of Genesis amusing. It gave me the silly Melissa giggles. Hence it gave me a story idea, but you'll have to read Fizzy Lemonade or its sequel to see what it is. :P For instance it says God created such and such and he saw that it was good and this concludes such and such a day of creation. God saw that this was good, etc. Then the chapters concerning heritage prior to the flood it starts with at 100 plus years this man bore a son and he then lived 800 – 900 hundred years and he dies. Then it keeps repeating for about 10 or more verses of this. Basically they have a son, they have a life span that exceeds our own and then they die. Ah but then prior to the flood again God feels that humans are so wicked (which broke his heart) that having such a long life span would reek havoc on his earth therefore he decided that there life spans would not exceed 120. If you think about it who now has lived that long? I feel bad because I thought I was entertained by the way it is written or maybe just the translation I am reading. (I have the New Living Word. It feels strange seeing as I have only previously known King James version) It was funny or maybe because I thought of a way to use my amusement for creativity, because in a way authors are like gods because they omnipresent and omniscient throughout the entire story. An author is everywhere at once and knows every thought and habit concerning the characters and the environment they live in more then the reader will ever know because a lot of the background could and would not fit in the story itself. And it seems like the characters have wills of there own and even though the author created them they really have no control, yet they do at the same time. They are like your children and you love them and you want them to love you too. I seriously think about stuff way too much.

P.S. Pretty Blue Eyes and poker are an interesting combination.

The ten minute entry concerning canned potatoes

2009-08-12T17:41:00.001-07:00

I only am allowed 14 minutes on this computer because I was unable to locate or make anyone vacate the 60 minute computers at the library. Rah. Therefore I shall make a quick entry.

Lalalalallalalalalala

I wrote an entry.

The end.

Just kidding lets see if we can spout a small story in less than 12 minutes. How about the dilemma of the canned potatoes.

Matthew a.k.a. The pastinator. (He is a pastor with super strength :P Perhaps it was because he lifed 3 -4 heavy boxes at once.) helped Hev-Lady and I move in other words he did the bulk of the work with his friend Jesse who only came to visit Matthew and therefore spent quality fishing time moving my mom and I. Apparently the one thing he was amazed and fascinated to no ends is my moms cornucopia of canned goods particularly the potatoes. He kept paying my mom and I out for it. So I told my mom and she gave him a jar. He still hasn't eaten it. I've been texting him constantly reminding him of his duty to try them, yet he says he hasn't gotten the courage to do so or he is waiting for the right moment.....Hmmmmmmm......Perhaps he should stick to the sweet pickles mom gave him instead?

And something that is still troubling me is my moms sudden interest in writing she is now using my excuse how she was tired because she stayed up writing. Gah! She started journaling every night because she notices how I write every night and I say how important it is too me. It's bad enough to copy my hobby but to start using my writing practices...Grrrrr.....

P.S. I wrote an entry. AND I get to see Pretty Blue Eyes in an hour. :P I have four minutes left on this computer....

The mixed message birthday party full of dog flakes

2009-08-11T21:38:00.000-07:00

I don't know when I will get the use of the computer again so....I shall write an entry.
So Pretty Blue Eyes is still sending the mixed messages....

Whilst at my special needs friends Erica's birthday party, (which I had to ride my moms monsterly out of shape rusted piece of shit bike to church to invite people that don't even know her and are assumed to want to come by Hev-Lady. ) He randomly asks my mom if she has a picture of when she was young and when asked he responded by saying he was only curious. What the?

So I asked him later by way of texting...
Me: Why did you want to see a picture of my mom when she was younger?
Pretty Blue Eyes: Just curious.
Me: Yes but why?
Pretty Blue Eyes: Dang it can't a guy be curious?
Me: No never!

Ulterior motives perhaps! A friend said it was a good thing because he wants to see what I look like when I am older like my mom to see if its worth it. Ummm it doesn't make sense but it is weird none the less, either that or Pretty Blue Eyes has the hots for my mom which would be entirely disturbing on so many levels. It seemed like everyone at the party had the hots for him! Especially Erica she candidly told me how she wants him to be her sweetie but apparently he is taken by me. Not quite yet! I am just content for now to be his friend because now I am getting to see how annoying and arrogant he is too! A pretty blue blessing in disguise. I wish I could stop focusing all my attention on him, but I am knew to this whole thing.

Then previously my friend Matthew was making fun of my moms poor handsome dog Weiser. (Had to say he was handsome) Just because he has a skin condition and really bad dandruff. It doesn't help that Weiser is very old and very black so the dandruff is noticeable.

Matthew: Urgh the dog has dandruff a hahahahahahha! Look at him scratch...something something something....blahbedy blah (Something along those lines)
Me: Stop making fun of my mom's dog. (I go to sit on chair Weiser had previously stolen something of a theme with him that night)
Matthew: Ha look there is his flakes all over the chair.
Me: (Brush them off)Its not his fault.
Matthew: (continues laughing) Fish food.
Me: You're fish food
Matthew: I am sure its highly nutritious.
Me: His flakes? Yes I can see it now lifting him up and shaking my moms dog over a fish tank to feed them.
Matthew: (Laughs) That could work.
Me: Hmph LEAVE MY MOM'S DOG ALONE!

Then before that...seems like this entry goes further and further back in time. :P
Matthew: (Wandering around my backyard.) Looks at raspberry bush and takes berry off and eats it.
Me: Don't let my mom see you do that! (
Me thinking: Ever heard of asking?!
Matthew: It's not like there is a plentiful supply of them.
Me: That's because my mom picked most of them the day before to make her diabetic raspberry jam.
Matthew: (reacts with mild uncaring) So!
Me: Your lucky I won't tell on you. (P.S. I did just to be a dink)
Me thinking: Gosh I sounded so childish!

So I guess its safe to say Matthew is a source of interesting hilarity, odd moments and memorable conversations. He reminds me of a surrogate version of Amy and Chris combined. Breathtakingly beautiful, yet even more beautiful and joyous in the inside and really cute with eyes full of intellect and knowledge combined with very strange sense of humour and child like nature like Chris. He is my Canadian replacement of the A.E.S.M.

Then even more before that...

Sydney was a dink and told pretty much every guest off! Then Hev-Lady took it upon herself to discipline him for it and when I said it was my job I was apparently embarrassing her in front of the customers. Yes thats right customers.

Sydney: Grrrrr!!! Barkety bark bark bark...(Perhaps translated to something like I don't know you therefore go away I hate you?)
Mom: Sydney you bad boy. (Gives him a smack)
Me thinking: GRRRRRR!!!!!
Me: Mom Sydney is my dog I would like to be the one to discipline him!
Mom: How dare you embarrass me in front of the customers!
Me: Uhhhh??? I was going to take him for a time out.
Mom: I meant to say customers...I mean guests. I have no idea why I want to call them customers.
Me: OK. (sulks and takes Sydney to my room for time out)
Mom: You're mad at me aren't you?
Me: No! (OK I obviously am.)He just needs to suss them out to see if there OK. I was going to calm my dog down and so on and so forth.
Mom: I am sorry that I disciplined Sydney in front of the customers. I know that your mad at me for it.
Me: I am not mad at you!
Then of course pretty much for the next 2 hours.
Mom: You're mad at me!
Or....
Mom: I wish Melissa wasn't mad at me.
Mom: You're still mad at me aren't you?
Mom: It's not nice to be mad at me in front of the customers.
How about...
Mom: Melissa is mad at me about disciplining Sydney
Then of course...
Mom: Melissa are you mad at me?

Hence to say I was more mad at Hev-Lady bringing up how mad I am every five minutes. I may have momentarily embarrassed her in front of everyone concerning my dog, but seriously she lied on the guilt all night! The only amusing thing was her constant reference to our odd assortment of guests as customers. Not to mention I was mad at myself for the obsessing over Pretty Blue Eyes. It's like every little thing he does I overtly analyze to the point of insanity. I was also mad at Hev-Lady for pretty much acting like she was some matronly saint for hosting a party for Erica and I couldn't even go and talk to people in a separate room from her she clings to me like fly paper. So I guess I was mad at her. I was just to stubborn to admit it.

Anyways, Erica's birthday was successful considering our location, people showed up enough said. We had some eats there was burgers minus the barbeque. (Good thing my mom had a George Forman Grill.) t also is especially nice I went through massive amounts of trouble to get Matthew precious mayonnaise from the back of the entire fridge. THE ENTIRE FRIDGE! I got beaned in the head by a can of no name brand cola. The chips were good too, but most importantly Erica was glowing and to me that was priceless. This paragraph was a entirely random and scatterbrained. The beauty of stream of consciousness.

Then of course the whole writing thing is still bothering me....

P.S. My mom's dog Weiser is currently trapped on the table. It gives me the silly Melissa giggles. Ah yes and sadly there be no banana bread at Erica's party. :(

Copying my passion

2009-08-08T13:26:00.000-07:00

Well its a beautiful Saturday. I don't have to work mwhahahahhahaa and I have a big bag of pickles Hev-Lady has bestowed upon me for safe keeping. I am currently in the library as my femputer has died AND Hev-Lady has a new computer of all beautifulness which she'll only let me use when she is in bed or out gardening, so basically never. Besides it has stinky dial up. Blah!
I went to my first every farmers market which was rather interesting. I bought homemade dog treats and a special present for a friend. Tomorrow is Erica's birthday and I am super excited. We're having a Hawaiian theme, and cake, hopefully banana bread...I'll write about that one in a minute. :P

There has been some rather interesting conversations since the big move in July. So I shall share.

Matthew: I was slaying all these fish in and they were hogs blahbedy blah etc, etc
Mary Beth: You didn't really catch all those fish did you.
Matthew: No....I just thought it would be fun to tell everyone.
Me: Proverbs 12:22! God detests lying lips but rejoices in those who tell the truth.
Mary Beth: Oooooh you've been told.
Matthew: (Gives me a look.) Is there a Proverbs for sarcasm?
Me: Hmmmm....I'll have to look.

Note to self using the Bible to to show up a pastor isn't exactly a good idea.

Then a few days later.... After noticing a rather voluptuous scrumptious looking zucchini mom rescued from the garden whilst waiting for the bus. Which for some reason reminding me of zucchini bread and therefore the pile of frozen bananas in the freezer, which caused me to consider the tasty implications of banana bread. I went on a rather strange tangent.

Me: Can you make banana bread. I heart banana bread.
Mom: Yes of course.
Me: I want banana bread for my birthday.
Erica: I want bread for my birthday too.
Mom: (smirks)
Me: I bet Matthew wants banana bread for his birthday too, which coincidentally is also my birthday. He hasn't really asked by I said he did because I want banana bread.
Mom: Uh huh is that so?
Me: I want banana bread.
Erica: BANANA BREAD?!
Mom: ....
Me: Did I mention I am going to tell Matthew to tell you he wants banana bread for his birthday because I want banana bread for mine? BANANA BREAD!

I recently went to a four day writers camp here in it was awesome fun but I was pretty much one of the only young people and I was surrounded by the older generations and coincidentally well seasoned writers of all awesomeness and my mom too. I was really annoyed that she was coming because I always figured writing was my passion and it seems when ever I have an idea to do something I like she copies me. I always take a good book with me: Mom starts taking a book with her. I like photography: Mom likes it too (to be fair she started digital photography before I started liking it or so she says) Those are just some of the examples. Anyways writers camp interesting and it got me to explore other avenues of writing and ways of thinking about words. Mom said she felt out of place because everyone was so imaginative and she felt like a fraud because everyone had pens and notebooks with them and they all had stories about there journey in writing. Maybe its because your NOT a writer Hev-Lady. She is not bad at the writing itself but she tells rather then shows and if she took it seriously she'd be carrying around a tattered old notebook and writing down ideas, eat sleep and breath writing. Her writing is elegant yet childish amateur yet well polished grammar wise. She doesn't convey emotions or have that passion or the command over words like my friends that make you say. Wow! I can feel your voice and your soul through these very words. So I guess because I got jealous of her for intruding into my passion I made the mistake of saying “I'm the writer!” quite angrily. (She reckons I was listening to McLies.) Then of course I mentioned how she copies my hobbies. I was angry. She said I was selfish and mean and if I was going to be like that she'd kick me out. Of course she relented 5 minutes later as always.

So now I have to put up with her new found writing phase and wait till she drops it like everything else. She said she only came to the writers camp so she could write about Tony and get over her writing being invaded by Sue-Woman. (Sue-Woman apparently read her journal and it scared her writing journey.) She makes everything about Tony and her. So to make it about them, something that I truly cherish sickens me. It was the one thing I had that wasn't about either of them and now I feel like its been taken from me, but she doesn't understand. She never will. She'll really kick me out now if she ever reads what I have written in this blog. I just wish she'd get her own identity and stop trying to copy mine and live vicariously through my achievements. I know this sounds selfish because it is enough said.

P.S. They had banana bread at the writers camp.

Move along and prosper

2009-07-29T15:28:00.000-07:00

This is a random conversation between my friends Matthew, Elizabeth and I after leaving the lake yesterday. It was awesome fun.

Me: I keep dreaming you’re a star ship captain
Matthew: Who Elizabeth?
Me: No you
Matthew: Nice
Me: Yes in one dream we were on this space station and we ran out of oxygen.
Matthew: We’re all doomed. Screw evacuating everyone I am out here.
Me: That’s not nice.
Matthew: So I am the captain.
Me: I think you’d make a good star ship captain.
Matthew: Thank you.
Me: I have always wanted a Star Trek themed birthday party. I want to be Spock, except I can’t because I am a girl. (Sue me I am an entire nerd.)
Elizabeth: I want to marry Spock and have his babies.
Me: Which Spock Lenard Nemoy Spock or Zachary Quinto Spock?
Elizabeth: Doesn’t matter.
Matthew: Lenard Nemoy is pretty hot.
Me: Yes he was the best Spock ever!
Matthew: Yes but he is getting pretty shrivelled now.

I shall call this moving week…

Tis Day 3 of 5.

I am supposed to be cleaning but Hev-Lady is taking a short nap. I don’t blame her the heat can take a toll on Neptunians…I mean humans. I momentarily confused characters with real people as I often do when my brain is entirely scatterbrained. Perhaps it would be easier to say that I was procrastinating as usual. So there is an entire heat wave going on right now. AN ENTIRE HEAT WAVE! And guess what mom (Hev-Lady) and I have been stuck inside packing. I feel like I am seriously melting into oblivion. It’s so hot I put a freezey on the counter, forgot about it and 5 minutes later it was melted. It almost reminds me of Australia. Now people will use the “oh you should know what this heat is like you were in a very tropical part of a country that had very hot summers…” Therefore I will not remind people of the day when it was 45 C and I was drenched in my own sweet. It was gross. I wonder if any of my Aussie friends would find this heat bad.

Anyways it’s nice to right something random and scrambled for once. So far I have been stuck in the kitchen cleaning dishes and counters, fun, fun, fun. I would rather be sitting by a fan reading a good book suffering from mental stress rather than physical, swimming with my friends and cooling off. I can’t wait till we finally move. I am also proud to say this has been a positive move to date as far as moving goes. We’ve had a head start and made sure we organized about 90 per cent of everything, which helps. Usually Hev-Lady (may she not read this and smack me silly) would be entirely crabby. Like GO AWAY I HATE YOU unless you do what I say scary or your being lazy and not doing anything. Not to mention Tony (Zack-Man) would be entirely flustered because he finds change hard to cope with. I guess we haven’t had to worry because Tony isn’t being stressed out by it; he is still coping from the big change that happened six months ago, going into care and all. The crabby dogs have replaced him. Sydney just sat there and barked at me for no particular reason then to be an ass and announce hot pissed off he is with the weather too. At least I think that’s what the voluntary spasms of dog language alerting me to. I’ve been giving him tepid baths to cool him down, but he is scared of baths because of my brother tried to give him a bath and dosed in hot water I’d be scared too, at least Sydney has avoided the microwave unlike a certain cat that I never met but was told about.

I should get back to work. I should move along and prosper….I mean live long and prosper… its ummm hot.

P.S. Budweiser beer is apparently for dirty old men.

My Spiritual Conundrums

2009-07-26T23:57:00.000-07:00

Procrastination is a common thing in my life. While attending uni and college I used to wait till the last minute to finish assignments. And now that I am moving I am procrastinating at packing. Moving really isn’t so bad once it’s over, its just the hard work beforehand. I am also procrastinating spiritually.

Anyways, this may come as a shock to everyone, but I’ve decided to get baptised. I am going to become a Baptist. Never thought that would happen! It’s scary because I always was dead set on rejecting it and now I am OK with it. I mean I still have my issues with religion and all but I feel like I am working them out.

Although technically I am supposedly a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Later Day Saints (Mormons). I am what they would call an inactive member. When I went to Alberta for that brief time Sue-Woman and my aunty who I will call Mel-Lady made me go to church. When I said I wasn’t interested or not ready for the whole church scene my aunty replied with the “oh that’s just the adversary.” (Adversary means Satan) It sounded so weird and deluded to me, like it does some times when my mom says “the devil is testing her.” Sometimes my families God talk irked me out, not because I don’t believe because I have said repeatedly I do. I think it’s just the idea of committing to faith? Or maybe I am still to sceptical to believe that its all up to one super being, I am still struggling with unbelief to a point.

I think of when I was 13 and the first time I was baptised by the Mormon Church, prior to this a few years earlier I wanted to be a Seventh Day Adventist and was starting baptismal classes. I was 8! I never truly believed in Mormonism. It left me with more questions then answers. I remember when the missionaries who talked to me shocked because I joked that I didn’t care which kingdom I wanted to go too, as all good Mormons want to go to the Celestial Kingdom. They never even asked me if I wanted to get baptised they figured because I was taking part in there talks and lessons that I wanted to be. This moment is significant but not significant to remember the date all I remember is it was April. I liked going to church to interact with people outside of home other than my mom and I was going through a really rough time. They took advantage of that to convert me! Not to mention I was pressured by Sue-Woman and my Aunt Mel-Lady to join. I knew the moment I stood outside that baptismal tank that it was wrong! My aunty was with me during my sudden hesitation and she did what any good Christian Mormon would do she said a prayer to try and calm me and told me it was just the adversary, (which seems to be her answer to a lot of things wrong.) I thought back to the baptism I went too earlier to see what they were like and the eight year old girl was in tears. Eight is the age children with in the church are baptised. It kind of scared me. I felt so uncomfortable before and after. I knew all the facts about the religion but I knew I didn’t care especially, when the missionaries asked me which Kingdom I wanted to go too and I said jokingly “doesn’t matter.

Then before the baptism I was interviewed by a different missionary as it is customary before being baptised. In which I was asked several inappropriate questions that a 13 year old would have no idea about.

Such as:
Have you ever had sex?

Have you had sex with a woman?

Have you ever murdered anyone?

And those are just the ones I remember. The question regarding sex scared the crap out of me. I felt so uncomfortable the entire time and apparently if I said yes to any of those questions if I repented of them then they would be washed away after the baptism, etc…I thought I was going to go to outer darkness because my mom thought I was a lesbian. I wrote an entry on this ages ago…

I told my moms friend about this, who coincidentally thought Mormonism is a cult. She told Hev-Lady and she was pissed! She almost decided not to give her consent. I wish she had said no to them and stood up for me when I was too scared to do it myself. Unfortunately Sue-Woman’s influence was still as strong back then and well Mel-Lady is just her plus one who does everything she tells her.

Months later I stopped going I wonder why? Yet I never stopped believing in God. I think I was always searching spiritually. I hope I have made the right decision now.

P.S. From now on anything that goes wrong is Pretty Blue Eyes fault. :P It makes me feel better.

A bowl full of lies

2009-07-25T00:07:00.000-07:00

Well I just successfully made an ass out of myself. You think I would learn to stay away from sitting on the fence and seeing both sides after the disaster that was Sam-Lady vs. Rat-Woman.

This time it is Hev-Lady vs. McLies. McLies wants to be my friend, she used to be friends with my mom, they had big scary fight and I knew for a fact they were BOTH responsible. Hev-Lady thinks McLies is a pathological liar, a charming one scarily enough. McLies thinks my mom is full of bull shit, but she sweetens it out by saying how she has such awesome points and blabedy blah. I made a mistake and decided to visit McLies after work for a couple of nights to see if I could decipher though the crap. Hev-Lady finds out and it really pissed her off, as in throwing a temper tantrum and treating me like dirt. I’ve officially impaled myself once again. I wasn’t going to tell her, but she pushed it out of me.

I just wanted to know the truth. I wanted to know if there is anything true to what she has to say about my mother, the scary fact it 2 percent is true the rest is all tall tales of all obscurity. It takes a bull shitter, a sceptic or a clever story teller to see that. I feel like I am caught up in this sick twisted game and McLies is trying to use me to get back at my mom because she won’t be friends anymore. She is handing me a bowl full of awful lies and she expects me to take a spoon and eat it all up, even if they are hard as nails and full of poison.

Hev-Lady is a control freak who makes sure everything is about her and insists they all feel sorry for her. Pray tell I don’t get my head bitten off if she ever comes across this.
Except in this case I’m pretty sure it’s not so hard to choose sides. I’ve known my mother longer than McLies and I have NEVER known Hev-Lady to lie to me. She may tell me in a way that she wants it to be heard but I know it’s not a lie. I think it’s pretty obvious that a friendship with McLies is not possible, it just gets me into to trouble and I feel all twofaced and icky inside. Then again if one gets all defensive does that not denote something as well? The thing is I think I went to visit and make friendly times with McLies to be spiteful and passive aggressive towards Hev-Lady because she is seriously frustrating the hell out of me now and subconsciously this is the only way I knew how. THE END! But I am too faced because I tell Hev-Lady that didn’t do it for those reasons. I fell like a terrible horrible and fear that once Pretty Blue Eyes and all my friends old and new find out, I’ll lose them forever. I wish I could just go hide under the big black rock I used six months ago. It was safe there.

I just want to know why I am so stupid and keep making the same mistakes over and over again.

P.S. McLies would make a good foe for Hev-Lady in the sequel to Song of the Superheroes :P Sadly McLies doesn’t deserve a character in her honour. Only my real friends do.

Rambling once again

2009-07-23T01:14:00.001-07:00

Have you ever been in a group of people yet feel so alone? I feel like they like me and they want to get to know me, but I am too scared to let them and I really don’t want too for some reason. I feel like I am standing next to this thick pane of glass and no matter how hard I try I can’t seem to break through it. I feel like I am having an out of body experience. I don’t feel like Melissa at all. I feel this insecure shy, unconfident woman unsure of what to do and how to act, a social retard. I don’t want to be ignored, yet I allow it to happen. I keep beating my head against the glass.

I’ve recently began attempting to meet more people and make friends, which I think is rather successful, the meeting people part anyways. I just don’t feel like I am meeting people that I want lasting relationships with yet. I’m still new girl. I want to show people the real me, but I am scared. I tried to talk to a person I think is a friend about the story I am working on, but I was out of my element, shy and quiet and he didn’t hear me, he just walked by because he didn’t hear me. It hurt because I finally make a feeble attempt to share a part of myself and it backfires. Coincidentally he also happened to be Pretty Blue Eyes. I felt so let down. Like I shouldn’t even bother to be his friend I am so tempted to be passive aggressive and tell him I don’t think I should be his friend because I WANT to be his friend not his invisible friend, he makes small talk too and tries to be friendly and invite you places. If I knew this was the consequences of my actions, I never would have told him that I liked him. Rah! But if he didn’t like me that way why does his whole face light up when he sees me? Why does he gaze at me when he thinks I am not looking?

Urgh and the only person who seems to understand what I am thinking concerning romantical woes and or this issue of expressing myself a city bus driver Banana Man and my mother. How weird is that? Then I am constantly worried as my mom listens to my ramblings that I am annoying her with my constant over analysing of my every move, Pretty Blue Eyes and life in general. She keeps saying I don’t know what to say, but I try to tell her you don’t have to say anything, you just need to listen. That’s it. I don’t have anyone that I feel I can successfully ramble too and they can successfully ramble back to the point that we have this equilibrium of listening and rambling. I just want to spout frustrations and knowing they understand what is bothering me. I don’t want advice, I don’t want comments on it. I certainly don’t want them to use my secrets against me. I just want someone to listen. And if my services are needed I will do the same. I’ve only found at least two people like that, unfortunately for me one lives in Alberta and another lives in Australia. My ranting and raving is heard, but debated too and that frustrates the hell out of me.

P.S. Creationism vs. evolution, tis a tricky debate, I want to devote a whole entire entry to it. :P

I believe in God part 2: Christianity vs. an open mind.

2009-07-21T00:00:00.000-07:00

I was thinking back to an earlier post about my beliefs in God. I still feel the religious confusion, but my ideas about going to church have changed. I realised it when I went to church without my mom. Oh shocker I now attend church so sue me. Mom bugged me for months and months on end. I find it a place to share my spiritual views and ideas about God with other people. To see other humans for that matter to immerse myself into the community rather then pine for the life I left behind in Australia. I still miss it, but I finally feel like I am moving forward. However, I still cling to my sceptical nature and open minded views. Sadly I think this is an issue.

Especially when I want to punch a fellow church member in the face when he mimics and mocks homosexuality. His whole view was the stereotypical ignorant one, you know the falsetto voice, the overtly feminine hand gestures and so on and so for. It disgusted me, but of course he backed it up with his oh it’s not my place to judge. So I told him one of my best friends is gay and he doesn’t act like that at all. You think I would learn from this not to bring it up again. I could tell he didn’t believe me.

Then later in the day I was invited out to lunch, with McLies, her family, old pastor and his wife, the ministry coordinator and her family and the new handsome pastor. I was an instigator and brought up homosexuality two more times. Once at the dinner table when I brought up a quote from a gay guy getting married and telling his dad how the road to hell was paved in bacon. I was ready for a debate on how the Bible only mentions male homosexuality and not lesbians because it’s patriarchal and so on and so forth, maybe even mention how gender and sexuality are purely social constructs mostly based on religious views, but I probably would have had to leave the house in shame and walk home (a good 10 kilometres or so.)

Then I unwitting said how Amy thought the intern pastor was gay because the way I described him was too good to be true, as most guys his age are dinkleheads. I was really itching to bring it up with him too because he IS too good to be true. He is the nicest guy I ever met. The whole group erupted into laughter. Then I added he is taken by God and I forgot to add the part where my friend Carol said all the good ones are taken or gay. I was implying he was taken. Of course the ministry coordinator said if he was gay he would NOT in no circumstances be preaching or holding any position in the church, he could attend but that’s it. I got the impression homosexuality was NOT a topic to bring up with church people. I smoothed it over by saying the intern pastor was pretty manly so he didn’t have to worry. I felt bad because I think I embarrassed him not to mention he was the one giving me a ride home. He said he was pretty secure in his sexuality so it was no worries phew. It just seems I can’t bring up any concrete debate with some of them with out getting my foot jammed so far in my mouth there are teeth marks on my knees. My open minded and truthfulness about how I see the world are kind of not really looked down upon, but are not something to be talked about. It scares me because its part of who I am and I don’t want to give that up, just because I attend church now. I want to continue my journey in spirituality and believe in God, but I don’t want to change myself into a person I don’t recognise.

I remember ages ago I think it was 2006 and I was still working at Express Subs and Sushi and the manger Joe asked me if I was Christian. To which I said sort of. Apparently sort of does not compute with Christians so of course he asked me what I meant by it. Of course I said that I believe in God and I felt that was enough. I still don’t feel like a whole Christian. I don’t know what I am. I prefer to say I am an open minded Christian. Therefore the religious confusion continues.

P.S. I got a new haircut!

Go away butterflies

2009-07-19T22:41:00.000-07:00

Me: Urgh I still have the butterflies.
Mom: GO AWAY BUTTERFLIES GO TO MOM’S GARDEN INSTEAD!
A few minutes later after the love butterflies have subsided.
Me: Hey yelling at them actually worked.
Mom: (chuckles) Is that right? So they are going to bug my garden and no one elses?
Me: Yes, make sure the next time you take a trip to the garden to tell them to leave me alone.
Mom: I’ll keep that in mind.
Me: Yep, they’re pretty butterflies, all blue, purple, yellow and pink, with pretty little patterns.
Mom: I shall keep an eye out for them.

It’s officially been a month since I told Pretty Blue Eyes I hearted him and I still haven’t been able to fully lick my wounds. Like I’ve said repeatedly to the point of exhaustion I can’t let it go. I think that I am over it or that I am dealing with the initial rejection but I take one look into his pretty blue eyes and wham bam I am out for six. I am elated when I am around him and then once I am home I am full of anxiety and anguish because of it. I want to share my heart with someone but they will not return it, so why do I keep torturing myself? I want to prove everyone wrong including myself. I want to put his picture in my Amy necklace. :P

Then there is the dangerous territory of jealousy. It’s turning me into a pit bull. This pretty blonde girl I will call Bee-Woman keeps hanging around Pretty Blue Eyes too. She clings to him like saran wrap and the clear cellophane wrapping is merely, just barely masking her affections. I also keep getting the impression from her that I am competition for his affections and to be frank I think I see her the same way. I want to come after her like Wild Will and yell insults at her. When I am around her and Pretty Blue Eyes I feel like I am being stung by venomous wasps, rather than kissed by pretty butterflies and I must lash out but I cannot will myself to do it. The worst part is I keep thinking that she is better for Pretty Blue Eyes because she is prettier than me, my mom gets mad at me when I say that and I do realise how irrational and stupid it is to say and think it because its not true. I am pretty and I am worthy of him in some way. I actually want to talk to her and see if perhaps I am just reading too much into things. I keep imagining her and I in the living room at Pretty Blue Eyes house during a gathering of youth like me and the room freezes and we go into this kung fu pose and claws come out and we hiss like angry cats, growl like vicious dogs and prepare for attack. Then a random guy in a suit, or sometimes one of my friends pops up from out of nowhere onto the scene and says “hey he isn’t worth fighting for, he isn’t yours to begin with.” I imagined Ashleigh in the same situation but she gets angry blue eyes when she is jealous and shoots blue death rays from her eyes, she stalks Bee-Woman to Fido-Mart and they have this big show down by the shoe department, where a curious Nigel Bottington looks on and then Philis comes toddling out during the disruptions announces how people are fighting because she is fat followed by punting Bee-Woman off the scene, followed by Ashleigh’s object of affection because he is a jerk faced poo head and her broke her nerd NERDY retarded weird girl friend’s entire heart. It’s after these imaginative episodes of all creativity and irrationality I suddenly think to myself, fight when the time is right and be patient for things to come.

I keep clinging to hope because he didn’t say he didn’t like me, he just said we could only be friends at the time and it can not ever go past friendship. Was it just a gentle let down or perhaps an invitation to keep waiting? I am glad that I know where I stand but the ground feels shaky beneath my feet now because of it. It makes it hard because now I know for sure that he knows that I like him. He gets so quiet when were together one on one, like perhaps there is more he wants to say but cannot or he feels awkward around me because he knows I like him and he doesn’t or cannot feel the same way for unknown reasons. Then again he makes a point to tease me and ask me how I am and jokes around with me, like a friend would and should. I heart him as a friend, it just hurts that it cannot go past that and I cannot tell him how much I really care. It would be so much easier if he wasn’t my friend. I want to tell him to leave me alone and go have fun with that pretty blonde girl who I swear looks at me as competition. I wish I never met him, but then I think about it and I realise his impact on me has been a positive one despite the heartbreak. It shows that I can really feel and my heart was never really lost of forgotten in Australia, only part of it was.

When I say Australia, I am referring to my friends. A year later I still pine for them. I hate how the only way to reach them on any level is a computer screen. I want to go back (with Carol of course.) to visit with them all for at least a few months and see the places in Australia I never got to go, Uluru for instance, Melbourne, random places of interest. I just want to be around them again and bask in their glorious friendship they’ve given me, I just want a hug from my good friends but its not possible most of them are overseas and another is in a different province and I can hardly afford the bus ride just to get to her. Blah!

Good grief somebody smack me! Please I am going insane from all of this.

P.S. I think I made the mistake of telling Pretty Blue Eyes that I tell Amy and Carol everything!

Picking at the scab

2009-07-18T22:41:00.000-07:00

For the last two maybe three days in a row now, my friend Mrs. Amazing Frank Sinatra Lady says to me: So how goes the saga? (She is obviously referring to Pretty Blue Eyes and my disastrously unrequited love)
And I reply.
Me: Oh same old same old
Or
Me: No change really
Or even
Me: I am sick of guys and their mixed messages. I wish they would throw them away into the fiery pits of hell.
Mrs. Amazing Frank Sinatra Lady: You’re just going to have to deal with it. If you like him it will all work out in the end.
Or
Mrs. Amazing Frank Sinatra Lady: Just give it time. If you like him then spend time with him. You never know when it will be over…

Note this is a generalisation of all of her wisdom :). And there be many more random snippets of advice she gave me, which I wish I remembered to write down, but I know I still remember on a subconscious level. Perhaps in another entry I shall talk about my wide variety of friends of different ages and backgrounds.

It’s been over a month and I am still heartbroken. Well I feel like my wounds have healed but while it’s still a scab I keep accidentally scratching off whenever I see him or think about him and all the hurt bleeds out. It’s an open wound again. It never fully heals. No band aid can cover it up or make it feel any better. Why can’t I seem to get over this? I wonder if maybe it’s because it’s true like. The like you experience very rarely in a life time? Every time I see him I get a jolt in my heart, its agonising longing mixed with happiness, it starts in my heart and then the wonderfulness of the feeling melts with in and trickles throughout my veins to the very essence of my being in a matter of seconds. It’s irritating because I feel like he will never know, but amazing because I hope that maybe he does. I pray that if he is not the one that I feel the exact same way about another human being, the closeness, the warm feelings, the hazy eyes and the shyness of trying to talk to them. I wish I could stop picking at the scab because it feels like its becoming infected with a wide amount of both irrational and rational feelings. I think the only medicine would be accepting myself and loving myself. I was told in order for a guy to like me I have to like myself and be confident, but the truth is I don’t, I never really have. I accept myself but I don’t like it. It’s more of a self annoyance. I irritate me. I analyse everything I do and constantly my own worst critic. When will this ridiculous cycle of self annoyance end? When will I find peace with in myself and be more comfortable in my own skin? It’s been a slow battle, but I know that it is happening.

P.S. I maked a friendship bracelet for Pretty Blue Eyes and have subsequently learnt he has Mickey Mouse hands! :P

Lust or Love

2009-07-15T12:33:00.000-07:00

Writing time again? Today I am setting aside 15 minutes…I have to catch the bus to see Tony-man features.

And now just like yesterday my mind draws a blank…

Well I am still heartbroken go figure. Perhaps I shall write a story about some advice a friend gave me.

Carma Bubbly: (You’ve been introduced to her in a previous entry. :P)Hello Beautiful! How are you?
Me: OK
Carma: Just OK? (Gives look of concern) What’s the matter?
Me: Oh I had a shitty weekend.
Carma: Why?
Me: Oh you know just family stuff, guy stuff, etc.
Carma: Oh? (Whispers) It’s probably PMS!
Me: I saw him standing with another girl. I thought I was over him, but I wasn't because I burst into tears.
Carma: You got to stop that!
Me: But I can’t help it. I still like him.
Carma: YOU GOT TO STOP THAT!
Me thinking: (Yikes!)
Me: But…
Carma: It’s just lust.
Me: I don’t think so…
Carma: It’s just lust.
Me thinking: (You said that already)
Me: But…I know it’s unhealthy and everything.
Carma: Exactly, it’s just lust. He has a nice body and he is good looking. It’s just lust.
Me thinking: (OK, OK I got your point)
Me: Yes but,
Carma: Yes I know he is a nice guy…
Me thinking: (You never actually talked to him! Grrr….)
Me: He really is.
Carma: It’s just lust sweetie.
Me thinking: (Ah forget it!)
Me: (Rolls eyes) OK…

Let me make this point clear. Officer Octogenarian was lust, lust mixed with admiration. I think this may have happened with Pretty Blue Eyes, but there is something different this time. I just can’t put my finger on it. Besides, does anyone have any idea what it’s like to be close to someone and not be able to share it with them? To feel all warm inside and wonder if they do too or if they even care? I feel all hazy whenever I see him smile. Good riddance to me and my obsessive behaviour. I am mad at Pretty Blue Eyes for rejecting me, I am mad at myself for letting it happen. Yet, it’s my own fault for being heartbroken, I took the risk, I knew this may happen. So why do I keep feeling thing may change? Is it just wishful thinking or a perfectly irrational gut feeling? Why does everyone keep telling me to let him go? Jo says to leave him in the past and I deserve much better, Carma says its lust. The only people to make sense are Mrs. Amazing Frank Sinatra Lady (another work friend, Marlon Brando Woman and Mrs. Amazing James Dean Woman has been taken.) she says if I like someone I want to be around them and I am allowed to like him because you never know how much time you have and things can change. Sam-Lady said to do what I feel is best and go with the flow. The Cashier Nazi (of all people), says that you can’t help who you love. My mom said if it makes me happy to keep hoping then go for it. Amy says he is probably gay seeing as he is too good to be true, but she thinks he sounds cool every time I talk about him and I am not sure about Carol, but I think she suggested that if he does go out with another girl I should be mad. It appears I may have inadvertently taken Carols advice last Sunday to my own emotional detriment.

P.S. I am going to take my brother out for ice cream and play dollies. Ah the joys of getting in touch with my inner child. :P

Another random rambling entry?

2009-07-14T12:04:00.000-07:00

So I should be getting ready for work, but I’ve decided to procrastinate or set aside 30 minutes to either read or write before work. Perhaps a full 30 minutes dedicated to both if I can muster the time, but alas I slept in today. And now that I have set aside writing time I have no idea what to write about, figures. I guess this shall be another random rambling entry?

I could mention how my supervisor has been coined as my work mom by my work friends. She always talks to me in a nurturing mom type way, like not down to me like I am stupid. Did I mention I actually have work friends now? After about 7 months or more of people thinking I was too shy or snobby because I always had my head in a book. Who knew I actually had to make the effort to talk to people. Maybe it could be that I have been there almost a year and people are getting used to me.

One of my moms “friends” is a master of storytelling. She stretches the truth, telling straight out lies about my mother, the church pastor or all people, my little brother, random church members to other random church members. Some I think are intelligent to enough to see through it. She has a real talent for sucking people in, a flair with words and not in a good way. She uses them for evil for her own personal gain. Luckily as a storyteller and a person with the abilities to embellish, who unfortunately did the same thing when she was little, I am able to notice that its bull shit. It’s the tone of voice, like she is convincing herself its true as well and it’s the way she puts emphasis on her stories, the words she uses. Better yet who about another conflicting story from the person themselves? I find when people tell the truth the words come out with meaning; there is this emotion behind them, a passion of some sort. They put their trust in you and bear a part of there soul to you. When it’s a lie it feels hallow, like a story, they normally won’t even look you in the eyes, they use other peoples truth as weapons against them. I didn’t have the guts to call her on it. I feel stupid because I told her the truth because I thought I could trust her and who knows how she’ll use it against me. I should have learnt the first time because she’s done it before and it hurt my mom in the process. So I told mom and she said either I confront her or she will. I thought about tomorrow, but I am afraid I’ll get sucked in again. Not to mention if I tell her I can’t be her friend, she’ll think it’s because of my mom, which it is. So I shall stick to the truth at least I’ll be the bigger person in the end.

P.S. I’ll write more when I can actually think of something more substantial.

The rain continues :(

2009-07-13T00:55:00.000-07:00

The sun is out - the sky is blue there’s not a cloud to spoil the view but it’s raining - raining in my heart

The weather man says clear today he doesn’t know you’ve gone away and it’s raining - raining in my heart

Oh, misery - misery what’s gonna become of me

I tell my blues they musn’t show but soon these tears are bound to flow cause it’s raining - raining in my heart

But it’s raining - raining in my heart

And it’s raining - raining in my heart

- Buddy Holly :)

I’m having another rainy day again. I realise describing my heartbreak may or may be appropriate but it has to come out somewhere or else it will stay inside me and brew. For me time doesn’t heal my wounds, it makes them fester instead. They grow into hideous boils that no amount of ointment can make them disappear or cover up.

I am miserable my heart is broken into little bits. I was so broken up inside, that I wanted to tell Pretty Blue Eyes I DON’T want to be his friend anymore because it would be so much easier to give up on him. I know in my heart that I can’t I must be patient and perhaps it will grow into a meaningful friendship at best. I understand why he can’t be more than friends right now and I know that I’m not ready for a relationship, especially since I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’ve lost my identity or perhaps never really had it. I mean there was a brief glimpse of who Melissa was in Australia, but she got swallowed up in the ocean on her way back to Canada. I want to go back to Australia and see if she is still there perhaps she swam to shore and she is waiting for me. I can almost hear her calling for me, wondering where I am.

I wrote Pretty Blue Eyes a letter, one that he will NOT read, but it made me feel better because I feel like I let him go or at least the ideal of him. I tried telling my mom about how I feel concerning my brother and my missing father, but she just reacted with mild caring. All she said was how she wishes she could make me feel better and hopes it’s not about her. Well it is! She’s broken my heart so many times its not funny.

I want to leave this place in my life. I don’t ever want to see my mom, Pretty Blue Eyes or even Tony ever again. They all broke my heart, one never understands me and denied me my birth father, one broke my heart despite the fact that I put myself out there and another stole my mother and my childhood away from me.

P.S. Reality is one big bitch slap in the face.

My search for the missing link

2009-07-12T00:15:00.000-07:00

So I started looking for my birth father this week. I haven’t had much luck. I called social services, but the whole confidentiality thing came up. Then I tried the courts, but the court case between my mom and father predated the computer system and I found out that my mom has to contact the courts because it is her file. Again the confidentiality arises. I asked my mom, but I am not sure if she is willing. Both times I asked people for information and when it was apparent that none could be given, the conversation ends with “good luck.” As if I am doing something brave and endearing, but it would be nice if someone said something other than that. However, I have found out that birth fathers are easier to find then mothers because they are not likely to change there names. No one said this was going to be easy. I sometimes wish this wasn’t a burden I had to bear. It’s not my fault but I am the one paying for it. I know my mom might take offense to this, but every time I bring up the f word she seems so indifferent followed by apologies on how she didn’t try harder, etc…

Perhaps I should go back to the beginning about how this whole journey started. The obvious would be mom meets boy, mom likes boy, mom makes sweet, sweet love to boy and then nine months later I arrive. Unfortunately, the other contribution to my DNA (because right now my father might as well be a sperm donor than an actual father) went MIA. My mom tried to tell him that she was pregnant with me but he called her a liar and broke her entire heart.

Then about 16 years ago welfare located my father and made my mom and him to court over child support. I vaguely remember talking to her about it at the time. Unfortunately, my brother who was just recently diagnosed with epilepsy and cerebral palsy was in a not so good way to so my mom skipped out of court and took Tony to the children’s hospital, leaving the link still missing. I am not angry at my mom because I am assuming it was a tough decision, but I still feel like she robbed me of a chance of at least knowing who he was. I wish I knew more than a name or how I have his curly hair.

If she only knew that sometimes if I stare into the mirror I see half of who I am missing. That for some years I used to say he was dead because people seemed to understand that better. I used to feel ashamed and angry that I didn’t know him for some reason and it was awkward as hell when people asked about my parents. Not knowing one of your birth parents is hard to explain the emptiness to ones who do. I can’t believe I wasted all these years to finally get the courage to find the missing link. It’s scary because I think I have to do it on my own.

P.S. I hope a certain someone changes his mind. :P

The world of many hats

2009-07-06T01:33:00.001-07:00

Have you ever noticed how people wear different hats? This is over course metaphorically and when I refer to hats I am thinking in terms of attitudes, actions and personality.

For instance, a co-worker who is cashier supervisor is this elegant, gentle, sweet and kind person, someone you’d like to talk too, but once she is at work again she is a cashier Nazi of all bossiness on a friggen power trip, like she is trying to prove how awesome she is. Lets face she is mean! She can’t even ask you to do something in a nice way. Sadly most of my fellow cashiers only seem to see this particular hat she wears. I am not sure if she is aware of this or perhaps she feels she has to act like this to prove herself. When she is like this I can’t stand her, but then I remind myself of the really nice person I chat with on my breaks sometimes. She even cheered me up once when I had a bad day. :) It’s like she is the same person, but there are two separate sides, two different hats she wears. It’s weird because she is still the same person and I like her, she is still herself.

Then there is my friend from church, who also happens to be a pastor. You would never know he is a pastor, much less a Christian unless he told you or unless you already knew he was. The thing is he is so genuine at church and on the outside it is hard not to like him. On one end he is this charismatic, people person who is brilliant with words (I really envy his talent) and shares his beliefs openly if you ask him, but he wouldn’t try to push it on you. Oddly this is one both sides of him. The change in the hats he wears isn’t as noticeable as some people. Sometimes he comes across as arrogant, but if you get to know him its merely confidence. He kind of just glides between hats gracefully the line is blurred yet you know he is wearing a different face when he is not doing church things. Perhaps the hats are blended together because he is so genuine. In fact he is so charming that he leaves people in awe of him. Men want to be his best buddy in the entire world and woman are totally enamoured to the point they want to marry him and have his future babies. He is blessed as he claims to be “really, really good looking,” as well as beautiful on the inside. I’ve heard women after he has left the building, as if he owns it I might add express how they want to do naughty things with him. This really kind of annoys me because he is more than just a good looking guy, an object of sexual desire, its as if his looks are another hat he wears whether he wants to or not. Although, I am pretty sure he does like wearing it. :P It just leaves me wondering if people who are more aesthetically pleasing to the eye have troubles finding someone who looks past the beauty and sees the inner beauty.

I am sure I wear many different hats too, but I am unsure of what they all are and when I am wearing them. I know I am mostly likely to change hats when I am around my mom, around my friends or at work. I think it’s because people change them without noticing. It’s just a part of them. Some are forced because you want Then same goes with my friends I see no wardrobe changes, perhaps I am so used to them I too do not notice. However my brother he wears no hats he is who he is all the time. He’d be the one person to eat hats rather then wear one, as are many of my other friends, both special needs and everyday people. I appreciate them because there are no surprises with them.

P.S. The search for my birth father begins…

Ignorant People!!!

2009-07-03T01:27:00.000-07:00

I had a really good day today. Firstly, I thought I worked an eight hour shift today, but then I realised once I double checked the schedule that I was four hours early. But it turned out because I hung out with my little brother instead. It was fun. Tony gave me this big hug when he saw me. It was like time stopped and all this joy came rushing along. This feeling is the best in the entire world. I had the best day because of it.

I am continually surprised by how people treat the disabled and special needs community. It irritates me to know end. I was trying to take my brother to the washroom today and a little old lady also on the way to the washroom saw that I had my brother with me. Stopped right in front of the door and refused to let us in. She just pointed at the sign that says ladies. She gave me a worried expression, “the oh boys aren’t allowed in the women’s washroom.” Yes because I could just as easily take him into the men’s? I think was pretty damn rude! When my brother has to go he has to go. I said “get over it he’s special needs. We need to get in now or he is going to pee all over the floor.” I shoved past her. AND then the stupid cow went and hid in the stall until we were finished because it was soooo embarrassing having a male in the washroom. Anyways I digress this incident really pissed me off. I detest ignorant people with the passion of a 1000 fiery suns. Grrrr…..I’m sick of there stares and there judgements.

Then a couple days before that Tony and I were at the Salvation Army dolly/ toy rescuing and I guess he made a mess as he tends to empty all the toy bins and sit in the middle of the floor and play with them. Mom and I (mostly me) then cleans up afterwards and the staff doesn’t really have a problem with it. However bitchy customers who aren’t intelligent enough to ask why or even perhaps maybe walk around him instead of nearly stepping on my brother while giving him contemptuous dirty looks seem too. So I asked one such customer what her problem was as he is special needs and if you said excuse me he is polite enough to move aside for you. She returned the judgemental look of all evilness to me. To which I shouted to my mom across the store. I wonder what peoples problems are? Needless to say I got even more mean looks. Who cares? I am tired of taking a passive viewing of ignorance towards my brother, the most genuine human being around. Anyone being indecent to my brother will have a red glowing mean scarlety big sister after them.

Oh yes I might also add Tony, his friend Sherry who is a wheel chair I might add really appreciate being nearly ran over by bikes and/or skate boards. Not to mention nearly walked into because apparently special needs people are invisible or are supposed to blend in with everyone else. Yes and it also wonderful when people use the tables which are designated for special needs people! It’s not right when someone who comes for coffee at Timmy’s feels subconscious because the only space she can get is blocking the aisle a bit. I constantly reminded her that they can walk around her. It was no big deal, but apparently it was.

Then of course on the opposite end, there are others who are the opposite who appreciate people no matter what. One of my friends is totally cool with Tony. He even put up with his bubble kisses, despite the big glob of spit on him. Even let him steal his coffee. Then there is the odd random person says hello and treats my brother like everyone should be treated. Not to mention the nice cashiers at Tim Horton who will give my brother a Tim Bit for 2 cents, just because. These people give me hope that there are still good people out there.

I like to hang around special needs people more than able bodied people sometimes because they are real. They don’t have this façade going on. They are who they are. I am sick of society and there constant ideal of normality, a normality that is entirely subjective.

I think I am done with my rant now.

P.S. I’ve rescued at least 20 plus dolls now, no thanks to Tony. :P

Packing on Canada Day!

2009-07-01T20:01:00.000-07:00

Happy Canada Day!

July 1st has always been kind of a special day for me. I moved out on my own for the first time. I was 19 and now 5 years later it feels like I am back to square one. Will I ever achieve independence again? How can I maintain my independence when I live at home with my mother, whom I think depends on me for a lot? I miss doing my own thing. My centre of my universe has been off centre for awhile now that I seem to be the centre of other peoples instead.

Anyways…

You think I would be doing something patriotic today, but alas I am packing and visiting with the dogs. I am glad to be moving but I could do with out the packing, cleaning and organising. I still have a long way to go and my entire room is a mess. It looked like a tornado has ripped through it and stripped any individuality it once had and spit up a bunch of displaced objects, boxes and garbage.

I keep finding stuff and thinking why on earth do I have this? Why did I keep this then I think about it and still keep it! Something of the things I find have sentimentality attached to it, like the things from Australia. But really all I care about is my books, DVD’s my journals, my photos, my camera my craft stuff, maybe my collectables and the dolls. (I’ll explain those later.) But for some reason I have toys, heaps of toys that I collected before Australia and some after. So I am attempting to find out which ones are special to me and which ones can be given away to Salvation Army, my brother or my friend Erica. Then I have random junk, and for some reason every single assignment since high school till university! I can’t decide if I need them or not. I might just have to let go of some of the sentimentality and do a massive give away. I seriously save everything I can get my hands on that I think will be useful for later or I just like for some random reason. It’s kind of scary.

I have recently taken my collecting obsession all the way back to a time when I was a child. I time when I made stories with 11 inch plastic actors. I’ve recently begun searching second hand stores which profit charities I might add for second hand Barbie dolls. A lot of the ones I have found feel abandoned, they are dirty and naked. Some have pen ink in their hair. These abandoned toys have all these stories behind them, who owned them, what games were they played in. They were loved once, but obviously not enough to get forgotten about and placed in a big giant bin at the Salvation Army or squirreled away in a corner of a dirty self at the Hospital Auxiliary. This all started I might add when my brother insisted I have girl toys.

I am on the opposite end of rejection. When I was 11 I started giving my dolls away thinking that I was too old for them. I had lost interest in them. I abandoned them. Luckily someone else took them in and began new stories and new relationships.

P.S. Mom said it was Sydney and Weiser Day!

You know you're a writer if...

2009-06-30T23:16:00.001-07:00

These are just some things I have been thinking about…

You know you’re a writer if…

You use many notebooks, many well used, well loved and nearly falling apart, yet holding the very thoughts and essence, a catalogue of you since the beginning of writing journey.

You care a small notebook around with you just in case.

You have a whole arsenal of pens with you at all times, because you never know.

Pens and paper have special intangible qualities to you. I can still remember the feeling and the pen I used to write Song of the Superheroes.

The letters on the computer keyboard are wearing off.

You think of your characters as real people sometimes.

You know your characters better than some of your friends

When you’re walking down the street and a scene from the story your working pops in your head and you get so caught up in it, you’re talking to yourself whilst out in public and people think you’re entirely weird.

Real people and places always inspire you. Everything would make a good story!!!

You imagine as opposed to daydreaming.

Daydreams usually consist of characters and scenes from stories your working on.

When writing an e-mail to a friend it’s practically an essay and you have to edit it for grammar and mistakes.

Grammar and spelling errors irritate the hell out of you.

Words are you vice without them you’d be completely lost.

You can write in complete silence or in utter chaos if the time calls for it.

Anywhere with a place to sit and good lighting is a good place to write. In fact you can write anywhere, bus stops, staff rooms, restaurants, etc.

When you stay up until 3 or 4 in the morning and suddenly realise you have to be up in three hours, but couldn’t care less because you’re on a roll with your current writing endeavour.

You see dreams as inspiration for story ideas

You sometimes dream about the story the working on, sometimes improving your story. :P

You’re constantly brainstorming ideas for your story.

When your head is full of thoughts and the only way to comprehend and process it all is to write out what is frustrating you, making you happy, exciting you, etc.

You have tried more than one type of writing such as journalism, novels, screenwriting, poetry, journaling, etc.

And finally you know you’re a writer when you truly believe you are. :)

P.S….I having nothing to add.

The pieces of my heart

2009-06-29T00:07:00.000-07:00

It’s a new week therefore a new start. :)

I am kind of relieved because I resolved the conflict from Wednesday between another associate and I who I will call Rosie for anonymity reasons. Turns out she, was just upset by the way I was discussing Pretty Blue Eyes, which I agree. She was more concerned about me being too open and that I should keep personal matters to myself and what happened between Pretty Blue Eyes and I should be kept between us. She also pointed out that my friend Carma Bubbly (because she is so cheery and happy) was very loud about my affections for Pretty Blue Eyes and proceeded to describe him, although rather accurate in a rather inappropriate way, one that I strangely got all annoyed with others for during a completely different incident. I digress I got caught up in the excitement of the moment, which is really easy when you like someone. I apologised to Rosie if I offended her and that I learnt my lesson. She was so nice about it in fact she is quite lovely, which really surprised me as I thought she entirely hated me. Considering I was stupid a couple of days after the incident and mentioned that she embarrassed me to another associate without checking to see if she was in the entire lounge. I didn’t say why I was embarrassed but I mentioned I learnt my lesson regarding the distribution of personal matters to others. I waved awkwardly once she was pointed it out and decided that it was kind of redundant to keep brewing over something that was obviously a misunderstanding therefore I was impressed to apologise to her. THE END!

Too think that in a month or so I’ll have been back in Canada for a whole year. It seems like yesterday that I was anticipating the move back, only a fraction of a second ago when as the plane was leaving Rockhampton taxing, ready to take off into the sky that I burst into tears. I remember the flight attendant asking me if I was OK. The truth is I left my heart sitting in the waiting room at the airport; I left it behind with my friends.

I used to think that I if I left most of my heart in another country, would I be able to give my whole heart to others? I mean I spread it around to Carol, Tony, my Mom (Even though Hev-Lady drives me mad) and my friends in Australia, where was the rest of my heart and is it meant for someone else special and more best friends too? So considering my experience from two-weeks ago and how I am making more friends here, I’ve come to the conclusion that perhaps I still have enough of my heart to give or perhaps it’s bigger than I thought it was. I feel that almost a year later I am finally finding my way again, adjusting to the new circumstances of my life. I feel like things are getting better despite the rough patches I have endured. I think it’s only made me stronger.

P.S. I have been writing more Fizzy Lemonade lately. :P

My unchosen playlist of songs in my entire head!

2009-06-26T01:06:00.000-07:00

I always get songs in my head that seem to reflect how I am feeling at the time. I am suffering from many musical worms.

For starters when I finally realised I liked Pretty Blue Eyes, I was stuck with the song Why Do Birds Suddenly Appear? By the Carpenters. Urgh I kept wanting to sing it all the time. I just felt so joyous.

Now it’s a mixture of It Hurts to Be In Love by Gene Pitney, then occasionally Love by Nat King Cole on constant rewind in my head, word for word. Followed by, You Can’t Hurry Love by The Supremes. These songs just pop up out of nowhere! Rah! It’s like one song is reflecting my hurt one is reflecting how I feel still and one is advising me and giving me hope. I think about stuff to much.

And when I was anticipating Star Trek I kept hearing every version of the theme songs from four of the TV series, the original series, Next Generation, Deep Space Nine and Voyager.

Then sometimes randomly Teletubies! To the point that I sing it out loud, needless to say I got funny looks. Maybe it represents my childishness.

And of course the honourable mentions are

Threes Company theme song

M*A*S*H*

Dora the Explorer

Jingle Bells

Pretty much any oldie song randomly pops in too no thanks to satellite radio and my mom’s love of the old stuff.

Any Hannah Montana song, stupid singing pens near the tills. I want to take them off the shelves and throw them into the fiery pits of hell. I wish those stupid kids would leave them alone.

I could think of more too. Anyways I felt I should write a happier entry. :P

P.S. I forgot to return my first library book in on time. :P That is all. I just wanted to be random.

My fours star ranting an raving entry part 3

2009-06-24T23:23:00.000-07:00

Hmmmmmmmmm what to write?

Well I have officially been a four star cashier at Wal-Mart since April. Wow what an accomplishment! Apparently this is no major feat as I should be getting writing awards and having a comfortable journalism job according to some people because I spent all this money and time and blabedy blah on it and therefore I should be. To that I say so what? I mean I am merely making a means to an end. THE END! I wish people would stop budding in to my life even if they mean well.

I’ve had a rough week.

Firstly I had my heart broken and I am infinitely confused about his rejection and the way he said. Is it an open door still or is it closed and he was trying to be nice as to not hurt my feelings. I had to face him the very next day and afterwards I burst into tears because it hurt me a lot. I guess I must of really liked him for that to happen. I keep pining for him. I wish it would entirely stop.

Secondly I came in to contact with my brothers grandparents. It was entirely awkward. It irritated me to no end who little they knew about their own grandson, they live 2 hours away, yet they only visit him at least once a year, twice if he is lucky. They talked to him like he was a little baby. Tony is entirely intelligent. ENTIRELY INTELLIGENT! So there! How would you feel if you were 17 having disabilities or not and your grandma kept saying “Go sit on Daddy’s knee,” etc.

Then I was entirely humiliated by a co-worker in front of my friends in the lunch room and she knows who the firstly is I just mentioned. Her words stung me like venomous daggers. It kind of involved Pretty Blue Eyes. Luckily most of the people were on my side and what she said was so not nice at all. Hmph. I believe in Karma enough said.

These last few entries have been rather ranting and raving in nature. It feels good to get it out though. It saves me from becoming a scarlety monster. I do think I am dealing with this rough patch better then the one a few months ago. Anyways, I promise I will write a real entry soon. :)

P.S. Rough times only make you stronger.

Oh yeah I believe I am 18/ 100 entries :P

Rainy Day Blues

2009-06-23T00:31:00.000-07:00

I am so annoyed with myself for the last two days I have been pining. Pining for someone I cannot have or maybe have to be patient to see if his mind changes. I can’t figure out when he told me we had to be friends if he looked sad because he knew he was going to break my heart or because he liked me too and knew that it wasn’t the right time or place to begin a relationship. I can’t figure out when I was around him yesterday if I was just feeling a longing of my own or picking up on his as well and hoping he was also longing. Urgh! I wish I could stop thinking about Pretty Blue Eyes (that’s what I will call him from now on) Somebody come and smack me back to reality please! But please anything but the stop agonising over it, it will get better, you’ll still meet someone special, etc. Then I think I might want to punch you in the face!

If getting my heart broken wasn’t bad enough I am slowly watching my brother deteriorate into a deep and dark sadness that I cannot cure or aid him in getting out of. It’s like all the joy and his whole world he knew before was violently ripped from him. I want to throw him a rope and bring him from the dark hole he was managed to fall into. It breaks my heart even more to know that my little brother is in emotional turmoil and I cannot seem to help him one bit. I mean I can visit him, play with him, hug him, try to remind him mom and I love him and he is there because mom is too sick to care for him anymore. Therefore my heart is doubly broken and I too have lost all the joy I have felt the last couple of weeks. And ironically Tony also has pretty blue eyes.

Then today I brought up the issue of my absent father, the ultimate rejecter as far as I am concerned to Hev-Lady, she gave the usual “I don’t know what to say” response. Its so awkward talking to her about it. It’s like she cares but she doesn’t care at the same time. I’d like her to step into my shoes one day and see what its like for everyone to ask about your “parents” or when filling out student loan applications and under father having to cross the section out and put no applicable or seeing little girls holding their fathers hands whilst shopping around Wal-Mart. Fathers day is the worst day of the year for me. It’s the one day of the year that I am reminded that I am different that I never had a dad who cared about me, much less acknowledge my existence and at least come and look for me. And now it appears that I am triply heartbroken just from thinking about this. Anyways I plan to look for him, Hev-Lady can go fly a kite.

Life just doesn’t feel right at the moment. I hope I learn something from all this.

I’m just sad right now, don’t mind me. It’s one of my rainy days. Every song on the radio seems to reflect what I am feeling.

I am merely attempting to write more. Writing is one of the only things, besides my friends that have never let me down; unless I have writer’s block then I know I am depressed.

P.S. I am going to attempt my 100 entries anyway. So there!

Oh the perils of falling in love, again and again

2009-06-21T20:04:00.000-07:00

It has been a long absence from the blogging as of late. I seem to be having more absences then I used too. I remember when I used to write every second day in my online weblog of all randomness. Spouting off of things that I think were rather Emo, obsessive, anxieties or frustrations that did NOT belong on a public space. (I’ve learnt my lesson on that one) Not to mention posting my stories for the entire world to see. (I guess this entry isn't much better.)

Why is love so irrational? I always seem to fall for the wrong guy. Thankfully this time around I was smart enough not to share my recent romantic infection on this blog. I read the old Officer Octogenarian (The person not the character), entries and I think how bizarre my behaviour was. I since scared him off due to my strangeness, think misdirected text messages, drunken text messages of undying liking, etc, etc. I never truly loved him or cared. You know why? Because I never took the risk and told him that I felt something for him, something I think now was more lust than love and really just liked feeling that way. Crushing on a guy is like an addiction really, you can’t eat, you can’t sleep, and you could just explode from happiness. If I really really liked him like I thought I did I would have found someway to tell him instead of pining for him? Or making up all these insane plans and constantly annoying people with my obsessions. I just liked liking Officer Old if that makes sense. The other factor of this is confidence. I don’t feel like I am good enough for the object of my desire so I chicken out. It feels safer to love from a far, rather than risk getting heartbroken, than to risk sharing who I really am.

The guy before Officer Old turned out to be the wrong guy for me anyways! So I am thankful it didn’t work. And I strongly suspect he had my friends reject me for him as they said they asked me about it. You know the whole “you’re a great girl but…” Blah! Once the irrationality of the love blinders became undone I saw him in a different light, more of an acquaintance than friend. Then something did happen and well he lead me on…THE END

The one before that, the Burger King crush I constantly wrote about in my old journal on Kiwibox. I think I was using the happiness feeling to help me get through the stressful time before going to Australia. Honestly the feeling of crushing on someone must be an addiction. I really wanted to tell him, but I mean I was leaving soon and well, whats done is done.

I’ve only ever told two guys that I like them that way. Ironically I wrote both of them letters, saying I liked them and both times I was told how brave I was from casual observers of my romantic endeavours and both times I was gently let down, but I still feel like I was shot down in flames. Both of whom didn’t say they didn’t like or dislike me, but said they had other commitments or maybe not ready for someone in their lives, which is understandable. They really want me as a friend. These two men I can say they were a bit more than crushes. I think I really truly and fully cared. I wanted to be around them and be close to them.

The first guy I ever truly liked was friends with for 3 years before I devolved the googly eyes for him. I still think of him fondly. Part of my heart still lingers in the “what if?” When I first experienced love sickness it was all new to me. I just wanted to be around him and spend time with him, share my interests. It felt like a waste once I felt the first sting of rejection. My heart broke I felt so low that I cried and the teachers in school couldn’t figure out what was wrong.

The other the most recent I inexplicable fell for within two weeks and fell for hard I did. I just love everything about him. I don’t dream about him, but I can’t stop thinking about him and I keep fantasising nuclear family type things. The kind of things were we settle down and have 2.5 kids and we like to be around each other and the first initial feelings of love develop into stronger mutual understanding and respect for one another, meanwhile living in a comfortable little house, with nice neighbours. It almost makes me sick thinking that I actually wanted that! I wanted him to be my first love! When I gave him the “like” letter I kept hoping that as I was walking away from the scene like the passive aggressive lover that I am he’d run behind me shouting my name and declare that he too has the same feelings, take me in his beautiful arms and kiss me! Urgh the embarrassment. Everyone told me I was doing the right thing, that if I liked him I should go for it. I should let him know sooner than later because it could be too late and I have nothing to lose for saying anything because I haven’t really had anything to begin with. How about my dignity? Thank you very much. I can’t even look him in his pretty blue eyes anymore without knowing that he knows my secret, that I knew I had to tell him but didn’t work out that way wanted too. If they hadn’t encouraged me to do it. I’d still be happily liking him very, very much so. They can take the whole take a leap of faith spiel and piss off. I am so angry with myself for feeling this way, when I was so sure I was doing the right thing! I feel so dumb now.

I also think that perhaps this was Karma as I broke another’s heart. He probably felt that “I like you for you. I want to experience the world with you and so on and so forth,” but I was too damned obsessed with Officer Old or perhaps too scared to understand there are guys out there that do like me for me think I am wonderful and amazing to the point that they buy me flowers and make a point to call me just because. I am just too stubborn to see it or believe it. I’d rather just stay closed off from love, I don’t want to share myself with anyone. I am content within myself that I don’t need someone to complete me, but I’d like to have someone try to share myself with so we can become one yet still remain complete in ourselves and not lose our identities. If that makes any sense? When I fall for someone I want to be with them forever or at least till where insanely old and sick of each other, but if one died, the other would die after from a broken heart. I feel so entirely idealistic.

I wish I could burry my feelings. I wish I had Data from Star Trek Next Generation’s ability to shut down my emotion chip when my emotions got the better of me. I can’t seem to develop a thick skin I wear my heart on my sleeve and get carried away in the moment in the feelings. If anyone has an idea of how to stop a crush before it gets out of hand please let me know because I am getting sick of the rejection and the aftermath of telling someone and feeling my heart being break inside of me. I am constantly reminded of the scene in the Simpsons where Bart has a crush on the babysitter and she declares her adoration for Jimbo and Bart suddenly imagines her ripping out his heart and throwing it in the trash, meanwhile saying “You won’t be needing this?” I feel like I crossed the line after announcing my affections. It is times like this where I feel so down that I really miss my friends in Australia, I really miss Carol, I miss being myself before I was enamoured by the drug called love. Is there any cure for this or will I have to experience the agony of rejection again?

P.S. My goal for 100 posts by 2010 is a sham. I’ll be lucky if I make 50!

Twilight series sucks!

2009-05-24T01:26:00.000-07:00

It’s 12:30 a.m. and I suddenly realise (or maybe I am just reminding myself) that I really don’t like the Twilight series even though I was a douche and bought the whole set because I heard such rave reviews on how amazingly awesome it is. I decided to give it a read because I think vampires are cool or mysterious. I’ve not quite wrapped my head around the whole undead thing mind you.

Actually it was this is a conversation between me and another cashier I will name Wilma and another associate I’ll name Bill to protect there anonymity because I like them. J Bill is funny and Wilma has interesting opinions on stuff. Anyways it kind of pointed out the irony of reading something I don’t particularly enjoy.

Wilma: (sits down at table with me. Looks to big fat black book of all boringness sitting beside me.) You still reading the first Twilight book Melissa?
Me: No it’s the third one.
Wilma: Do you like it? I quite liked the series I really enjoyed it. (Note she says this every time.)
Me: Uhhhh it’s alright. I don’t really like it.
Bill: (Obviously eavesdropping) OK so your reading it and you don’t like. Hmmm that makes sense.
Me: I like it. I just don’t really like it that much. I’ve read way better.
Bill: Yet you’re still reading it…
Wilma: I quite liked it. I really enjoyed the series….

Yeah well this conversation isn’t really funny…but it was funny earlier when Bill discussed his hatred for stupid people. :P I just can’t remember what he said…

Note this blog entry may see scatterbrained and garbled because it is almost 1 am and Ummmm….yeah!

However, I will note that the general idea is pretty creative, especially the good vegetarian vampire thing and the whole idea of them having special powers. Stephenie Meyer’s writing style is easy to read too. It’s flowery and pretty, but it really isn’t all roses either.

I can also see why girls may like it. Beautiful vampire often compared to a Greek Adonis loves average girl who leads and ordinary boring life. Girl meets vampire beautiful man and her life seems better. It’s true love and its everlasting undying love because even if Bella dies (I haven’t gotten to the fourth book yet) Edward will still love her. He will die for her by going to those Italian jerks the Volturi and ask him to take his very life because he would rather end his immortality than be with out his precious Bella Swan. What teenage girl wouldn’t want that kind of love for them? Not to mention its forbidden love because Edward could cave in and entirely kill her being highly attracted to her scent and all. I mean vampire human, predator prey it all comes down to binary opposition. One’s bad one’s good. Vampires being inherently strong with supernatural abilites and abomination against nature being undead and all and then there is humans who are weak, normal abilities and living beings. It would be a very interesting series to write a cultural type essay about, but I digress.

Anyways…So what are my issues with the books?

The author tells the story rather than shows it. She tells you how sad Bella is and uses like a paragraph to describe one item. It’s dumb. To me showing the reader what is happening captivates them.

Let me see 2 dimensional characters if your entirely lucky to come across one! A lot of them are just cardboard cut outs relegated to he said she said roles. They did this and they did that…Who cares? I know nothing about the characters except that the guys at Bella’s high school are all instantly in love with her, which makes sense because she is so entirely plain. And her girl friends are all about gossiping and other stereotypical girl stuff. Rah! I just hope none of my characters are like that, because that would be entirely demeaning to them. I love my characters and my stories.

Also, I’m sorry but I think Edward is a steaming pile of Gary Stu. AN ENTIRE GARY STU! He can do know wrong and is entirely beautiful and good and everyone hates him for it. Pretty much every chapter Bella is like oh “he is so beautiful” or “there he is a male supermodel with his golden topaz liquid eyes,” and blabedy blah! Urgh! I understood the fact that he is beautiful the entire time, stop friggen reminding me of it! I also find it contradictory that Bella insists she isn’t with him because of the way he looks or his money but she constantly describes how beautiful he is and how he is rich. Also Edward and Bella are so co-dependent on each other one of them leaves and they descend into entire gloominess. Especially Bella….

In fact from the three books that I have read…Bella mopes a lot, she’s clumsy and her whole entire world is about Edward and one day being an entire vampire….oooooh.

Currently I am reading the third book and I don’t know why. I just want to read all the books so I can say that I read them and I think they entirely suck. ENTIRELY SUCK! Then yesterday I misplaced one of the books, thinking that I lost it and I panicked, not because I wanted to finish reading it, but because I spent money on it and I couldn’t finish it to tell people how much I think it sucks. Yeah I am weird. I reading a series I entirely don’t like just because I have nothing better to do.

P.S. You Suck: A Love Story is a good vampire story…so there!

They take up way to much valuable space on my bookshelf. In fact let me be entirely callous and add the library as well. There are so many good books they could have at the library in town but they instead make space for the waste of words and trees that The Twilight series is. For instance more Robert Rankin books and Jasper Fforde books. Or maybe the entire series of the Acorna the Unicorn Girl books, I mean they have all of them except one and, and, and it just doesn’t make sense to me. My brain might implode from the insanity of obsessions.

I’m done with my scatterbrained rant for tonight.

P.S. Die hard Twilight fans will probably come after me with flame throwers and pitchforks now.

You’re a book!

2009-05-10T22:59:00.000-07:00

Because today was Mothers Day, I wanted to show her I care. My mom (Hev-Lady) has had a recent surge of reading I decided the best way was to write her a small short story, to coincide with the bookmark I made her. My mom and I have our differences and we clash on more or one occasion, but I still appreciate her despite our issues. After all it is Mothers Day. And what better way to show this than to write, something she encouraged me to do through out the years.

So here is it. Staring no other than Hev-Lady and Ashleigh McGlonagkic complete with an inside joke. I have been attempting since I’ve gotten back from Australia to teach her word play insults. If that’s what you call them? She is slowly getting the hang of it.

You’re a book!

“I’m going to read a book,” says Hev-Lady, resting comfortably on the living room couch, entitled to rest it being Mother’s Day and all.
“You’re a book,” Ashleigh replies automatically. Hev-Lady’s sighs echoes through out the small house.
“Then why don’t you read me then?” Hev-Lady questions. “If I am a book as you say.”
“You’re hard to read,” Ashleigh says, “one of a kind, like any book. That’s why for Mothers Day I am giving you a bookmark to read other books.”
“You’re a bookmark,” Hev-Lady says. “Did I say it right?”
“Yes mom,” says Ashleigh. “Then I say...’I’ll mark your book,’ to which you reply?”
“You’re face is?”
“No! “I’ll book you’re mark,” Ashleigh sighs exasperated from trying to teach her mother word games all day. “But seriously I made you a book mark.”
“It looks thrown together,” Hev-Lady replies, still happy about the present mind you.
“I kind of procrastinated,” Ashleigh admits. “But it has flowers on it. You like flowers!”
“It has scribbled flowers all over it,” says Hev-Lady. “But I like it just the same.”
“You’re scribbled flowers,” Ashleigh retorts. “I’d had limited resources and time.”
“Enough of that now,” says Hev-Lady. “Let me read. The bookmark will still serve its purpose.”

P.S. Mom liked it!

14 out of 100 entries :S 86 more to go!

Deep thinking...?

2009-05-08T23:55:00.000-07:00

I can’t wait to see the new Star Trek. I am so excited to see it. I thought it was kind of funny that some of the purists don't like the new film because it doesn't stay true to the original cannon. I prefer to think of it as a different interpretation of Gene Roddenberrys vision. It’s a different take on the original cannon so to speak. I am looking forward to the newer look. I believe William Shatner said to the die hard trekkies or trekkers or whatever the hell they are called "to get a life." I can understand why maybe the purists to the original series may not like the new version. Maybe it’s like some people when they make a book into a movie. If I see the movie version I hardly ever leave satisfied. I'll always love the book version no matter what and it irritates me what Hollywood does to my idea of story. If they ever made a movie version of Thursday Next series, I'd probably cause a riot. Characters are foremost belong to the author, but they can also belong to the readers or viewers in the case of Star Trek in a different way. They are peoples heroes they love the story that the author created so much any tampering or changing in there opinion maybe considered a downright assault or attack on their imagination and there emotional connections to the character and the story.

It kind of reminds me of Roland Barthes and his idea that there are no authors only readers and the author is the first reader. So the author created the characters and story and sees it one way, but different individuals would see it differently than the next individual. So could Hollywood merely just be another reader and putting a different text out there to be interpreted by more readers, to the point that the meaning and the original meaning of it is endlessly deferred. Like Jacques Derrida’s example of how meaning is endlessly deferred and compared it to the dictionary, that there is no same meaning for the same thing. So the story or the text the author started out with is totally different than what he or she intended. Does this mean there is no such thing as creative enterprise if not seen how it’s intended and is there a such a thing as an original idea? Is there an author? Is there only creative readers?

Case in point I am ultimately putting to much thought into this subject again. Of course all of this is purely my opinion. I digress, I like Star Trek, but I am not obsessed and if I look at it as a different interpretation of the idea then it doesn't bother me too much, because I to am a reader and different than all the others readers out there in my views and interpretations of books as well as a Star Trek.

I almost got hit by a car last night. It was so close I could feel the front tire right by my foot! The groceries I had in my bag were damaged. A box of granola bars were dented right in and my bread was flattened into an unspeakable mass. It was a close call and I got me thinking what if? It was the scariest thing I've had happen in my life, including the time when I was eight and I was electrocuted by my great grandfather’s night light that he gave me. It's safe to say I've had two near death experiences now. It's kind of creepy. It makes me wonder if there is a set time for everyone to enter the world and then to leave it. I hope I leave peacefully and that I am content with how I lived my life when it happens, but I think everyone wants that. I don't think we have a choice in the matter sadly. Much like the act of reading and everyone’s different interpretations and views on it. I have no choice how people will read my work and I have no choice about when I die, but at least being a writer I leave myself and my words behind for others to read and interpret. Funny how I bring a near death experience back to reading and writing, maybe it’s because it’s a BIG part of my life. It’s what I do and enjoy whilst I am living.

Again…thinking about things way to deeply again.

P.S. I write at work, but not for work so I am technically being paid to write, but merely for my own amusement. :P

13/100 entries

Ketchup the Writerer

2009-04-25T23:55:00.000-07:00

People make me so angry sometimes. So annoyed that I may never go to a particular restaurant ever again! Why can’t my brother go anywhere with out some douche bag judging him?

Here is the story:

Mom, Tony and I were at Pizza Hut having lunch. Tony loves pizza and he was particularly happy because he won a race against me to get there. The idea was I’d pick up some books I ordered from the book store and see if I would beat him and my mom there, which he did. Mom ordered him the buffet and because he is independent and likes to do things himself, he got his own food. Mom offered to help, but knowing if she interfered he would get irritated and cause a big upset. He has one ear splitting scream and is known to throw, lie down on the floor and not get up, etc, etc…On Tony’s second trip, (we sent him to get more pizza and pasta so he would not eat our own pizzas) he came back to the table with his plate heaping full of pizza, breadsticks, pasta and dripping with salad dressing. (He loves salad dressing) and the store owner no less, got mad at him for dripping on the floor, saying my mom should have been helping him and she would have gotten him a tray and blahbeddy blah. My mom went up to her and tried to explain that he was special needs and wanted to be independent so to avoid a meltdown she let him try on his own, but the lady wouldn’t listen. She made Tony feel like a little kid, less than human and talked about him like he wasn’t even there. I knew Tony understood when he started worrying and compulsively cleaning up the spills on the table, followed by profusely apologising. This however, wasn’t as bad as some incidents.

About six of seven years ago, I was at the movie theatre with my family and my brother excited about seeing Spiderman was being a bit loud, a bit too loud for some cantankerous overweight feral, (I could use much stronger words…) Became upset with my brothers behaviour and demanded that my brother be quiet or leave! A shouting match, mixed with curse words ensued starting with mom and ending with mom, me and the ugly man caused such a ruckus we were all asked to leave. This man said something I will never forget. “Put him into a cage where he belongs!” These words still haunt me to this day. I can hear him say it as clear as a bell. It still makes me angry.

Normality is a confounding subject. Why is it if you are not normal you’re expected to either attempt as much as possible to achieve normality or become invisible so the supposed norm isn’t interrupted by your difference? As far as I’m concerned normal, as well as its synonyms shouldn’t even be available in the English language. The thing I loved most about most of my university classes is that lectures banned the use of it or encouraged students to come up with a different word.

Also why are special needs people treated differently? It’s like they are there, but no one wants to see them at the same time. It’s like the olden days when my mom said children were seen not heard. It’s the same for special needs people. I got hell from a lady with a big family and a car heaping full of stuff because I sent her away when I was closing my till at work on day, not because she was trying to be sneaky and go through because apparently if there is no “lane closed sign she can.” (We have different rules on that matter). She was mad because when a lady with her special needs son came to my till shortly after and not immediately noticing my lane closed sign asked if they could come though I said it was OK. Why? Because I have a soft spot for special needs children. I know how tough it is when you are shopping with someone with disabilities, (the stares you get for starters), but I know that some special needs children like my brother when they are over stimulated or something is bothering them, they tend to have meltdowns. I was trying to help the lady hopefully avoid this, meanwhile thinking hoping that I am not being to presumptuous about her son and his disabilities and what not.

So of course when the lady with the family noticed she said. “Oh you can help her, but not us?” The way she suggested it to me sounded like it was a just on lady not a mother or aid-worker with a special needs child. I felt like I was being ostracised because I wouldn’t help a normal family. So I said “she only had a few items and they have strict rules at work that you must be done on time”, but I left the special needs thing out because the lady with her special child was still there and I didn’t her to think I was just helping the mother because her son was special needs. I wanted to help because I felt it was the right thing to do! After all of this the lady with a big cart of stuff had the nerve to say I was prejudice because she was Native American. First off this had nothing to do with race, the lady and her son were East Indian, not that it matters. It had nothing to do with the amount of stuff she had. If I am prejudice it’s against people who have no tolerance towards the handicapped or play the stupid race card. I digress…I told other cashiers and some other associates and they said I did a nice thing. So there lady with big family cart full of stuff who tries to sneak into my till and then thinks I am racist! Rah! If she did end up complaining I’d tell them the big long spiel I wrote down. LANE CLOSED!

Hopefully I am done ranting on this subject! However, if I were in politics or what ever I’d definitely campaign for special needs people! They need more funding to make things accessible for them enjoy life like anyone else, they need respect. They are human too, but I guess some people are so wrapped up in their normal lives they forget about them, don’t see them or don’t care about them or anything abnormal and in the end it makes me very sad.

I guess this is random putting up a story after my long ranting session, but it kind of has to do with being prejudice. The character Kassy is treated like dirt because she can’t write to either Carly’s or James standards. Kassy is one who thinks she is a writer, but isn’t. Although I don’t think I put that in this fragment. It is because of this she is seen as abnormal and one of the characters James in particular is mean to her because of it. While Carly knows the behaviour is inexcusable she still lets it continue for some reason…almost amused by it, acting like its not even happening. I read too much into my stuff I guess.

Monday, August 15, 2005

Ketchup the Writerer

James sits across from me as surly as ever, Sam sits beside me rolling a ball point pen back and forth across the table. The pen clicks and clacks as it rolls. He was lost in thought, absorbed in his own world as usual. I sit there staring into space.
“Carly!” (a voice behind me) Kassy the Writerer exclaims.
“How are you?” she asks.
“I’m fine,” I reply.
James glares at her, his eyes squinting though his black framed glasses, his chocolate brown eyes dark and mean.
“Hi James!” she waves her hand up in friendly wave.
He stares back at her. “Did any of us say you could sit down with us?”
“I-I haven’t sit down yet,” she replies awkwardly.
“Well are you going to sit down or what?”
She slowly sits on the chair beside me.
“I J-just wrote another chapter in my story,” Kassy says attempting to make conversation.
Sam continues to roll the pen.
“Is this your friend?” She asks pointing at Sam. She smiles awkwardly.
“Oh yeah,” I reply. “He is my fiancé, Sam,” I smile awkwardly.
The pen stops rolling. Sam looks at me.
“Uh Sam, this is Kassy. Kassy this is Sam,” I say.
“Oh…”
Whapp! A ketchup packet thuds on her left ear.
James smirks, Sam snorts, I sigh, Kassy cries.
“James are you bored or something?”
“The ketchup hurt me,” Kassy sobbed.
“Are you allergic to tomatoes?” Sam asks.
“No, just ketchup,” she replies.

P.S. I’ve been writing more lately :)

12/100!!!

Forget Breakfast!

2009-04-21T00:26:00.000-07:00

One of the few things that I’ve had a consistent habit or relationship with since I can remember is my alarm clock, to be more specific the snooze button. Even the alarm clock changes, whether it be an old battered one (no thanks to my brother throwing it several hundred times) I had for about 7 years, a cheap $2 analogue from the Warehouse, the one on my mobile phone or the new one I got this past Christmas. The snooze button and I have always made contact, which I think is rather excessive. One may press the snooze button 1 or 2 times. I seem to push it at least 7 or more in the morning. I think the record was 2 hours before I finally got out of bed and I had 30 minutes to get ready for work. It’s such a bad habit; I used to leave myself with 20 minutes till I had to be out the door to work. I just like sleep or maybe I just like to press the snooze button for no apparent reason. I am safe in my bed, the world hasn’t tainted me yet and made me bitterer or annoyed with life that it already has.

For example, I set my alarm for 8:30 a.m. to give some time to get ready for the bus at 10:30a.m.…I kept pushing the snooze button till 9:50 a.m.! I played musical alarm clock for almost an hour and 20 minutes. I went from alarm clock, to bed, to dream land to being woken up by alarm clock, to pressing the snooze button, then back to bed and so the cycle continued. Meanwhile my dog Sydney curled into a ball at my feet shifted behind my legs so I wouldn’t keep disturbing every 9 minutes that I got up to press the snooze button once again. Meanwhile I vaguely remember Sydney looking at me occasionally in my zombie state, saying with those cute little brown eyes, “no really Melissa how long is this going to go on?”

So how do I break this incredibly bad habit? How do I get up shut my alarm off, ignore the snooze button and stay away from my bed? I swear if I could, my mornings would be much less stressed.

Ironically I found a story that mirrors my relationship with the alarm clock…It’s a Carly fragment. :P I also want to make a note that any story I write or post on here is entirely copyrighted!

Thursday, July 28, 2005

Forget Breakfast!

The sun beats down on me as I walk along the dusty road. No one is in sight. The heat attacks me making me sweat, my lips dry.
I come to a cliff I see a shadowy figure.
“Sam,” I ask.
He turns around. His hazel eyes light up. He smiles
“Carly?” he replies.
His tanned skin glistens from sweat. His smell amazing, I am drawn to him.
He gazes into my eyes and leans into me for a passionate kiss.
“Beep!”
“Rrrringgg!”
The alarms clocks go off.
I sit up in a daze. It was only a dream.
“Carly…!” my roommate Noel screams.
I smack the alarm clocks.
“ringgg…” I shove it to the ground.
Complete silence.
I miss him. I love him and now its too late.
I quickly get dressed. I dash out of my bedroom.
Crash! I tripped over something big and squishy. Its my brother Tony what’s he doing here?
Tony continues to sleep, unaware that I almost dilapidated myself. It’s a gift in our family. We sleep like hibernating bears. (or bears in hibernation.) My massive brother rolls over and continues to snore.
I kick him.
“Tony!”
“Grawlbhlik,” he answers.
I walk over to the kitchen. The microwave tells me I have five minutes before I need to leave for work.
Forget Breakfast!

P.S. The world’s worst weapon is the tongue. Words said the wrong way are like a thousand poisonous pointy spears. Now I know what all the literary theorist where on about when they mentioned the anxiety of language…

11/100 entries...89 more to go :S

Honeydew Mellon

2009-04-19T00:11:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had a conversation on msn that abruptly ends? I mean your talking and then all of a sudden you run out of things to talk about and then its just silence for what seems like ever and then every 10 – 20 minutes you ask if they are there and they reply yes...then someone says some thing random like “I’m bored.” Or “I’m tired.” Then once again the silence continues. Its like the two people in the conversation couldn’t be bothered to talk to each other anymore and can’t figure out a polite way to say I’m talk to you later or I’m going now….Its just silence, no clicking of the keyboard, no nothing. It makes me feel anxious because I think, they may think that I am ignoring them or that I don’t want to talk to them anymore. The thing is I do, but I have run out of something to say to them. Finally after the conversation has stagnated, I just say I’m going to bed or they don’t even bother to say good bye and you see they have gone offline. I feel kind of bad the conversation peaked, and then dwindled into oblivion with random small talk until it was finally over. Sometimes being merely side track results in the death of the conversation itself.

A prime example of this is conversations with my friend Carol. We both seem to think our lives are so boring that we run out of things to talk about. We have the occasional running of the getting out of frustrations and advice giving but after an hour if its on a particular day where nothing exciting happened the conversation usually ends up stagnating and its not because we don’t like to talk to each other. I think we just run out of stuff to talk about or feel we have nothing to talk about. However I think we are interesting but we fail to see it as we are so wrapped up in the “my life is boring all I do is eat, sleep and work.”

I miss the conversations I had with my friend Chris where we’d talk about anything. We actually would have conversations that started and finished. For starters and in no particular order, we talked about:

You're face!
Boobies
Random garbles of words e.g. adhfdshfsdjlkdsfjdslkjfdslkjdfslkjdslk;
Flat to Myself movie trilogy.
Carol/Philis like stories.
Occasional moments of advice, usually about my obsessions, but hardly ever about his. (I feel bad about that)
ANYTHING Song of the Superheroes related this includes Fizzy Lemonade and its upcoming possible sequels. One time we had an msn conversation in which we role played. I was Sarah Evans and he was Fergus and we having a mock interview. These conversations went on for hours. HOURS!
Other stories we were working on that was not Song of the Superheroes related.
Random hellos and plans for the next day (Whilst in Australia of course, better yet Rockhampton!)
Reminders to update ones blog “DATE UP! DATE UP! DATE UP! DATE UP! NOW! NOW! NOW! NOW!”
Sometimes romantical woes.
Other friends, but not in a bad behind your back way. For example, with one friend being in another city, it was merely an informational thing.
Literary and cultural theories.

Being that I am on about msn and it reminds me of script format. I thought I should post a short script story I wrote. Seeing as the idea of April is to showcase my unfinished stories...

Monday, May 28, 2007
Honeydew Mellon

Sam is picking vegetables in the food produce aisle at a local grocery store. Frank wanders behind Sam.
Frank: You know what? One time I bought a pineapple.
Sam: (Jumps, is a bit startled as he isn’t expecting company.) Oh I see…
Frank: Yes it tasted good.
Sam: (Standoffishly) Oh course…
Frank: It tasted like pineapple.
Sam: What else would it taste like? (Tries to get away from the insane nerd)
Frank and Sam are now in vegetable aisle hovering past the fruits.
Frank: I thought it would taste like pine trees and apples but it tasted much different.
Sam: OK…How about trying this honeydew melon? (Hand the green melon to Frank.)
Frank: A honey flavoured melon that’s ingenious!

My thoughts: I wrote this almost two years ago! I was still in Australia! I like this story fragment! I’ve decided I will not dig up anything past 2005 because before that was kind of (in my opinion) horrendous. Mind you I am my own worst critic.

Oh yeah and this is entirely random but a flatmate briefly had a cute little dog called Honey Dew Mellon, but she was called Honey.

P.S. I found out that in high school I was considered a walking dictionary. Just ask one of my old high school classmates.

10/100 entries...